To Love and be Loathed
by Child of the True King
Summary: Netherfield Park is let to a certain Mr. Bingley. A few months later, three additional gentleman arrive: two Fitzwilliam's and one Darcy. Life in Hertfordshire is turned upside-down, with unforeseen marriages, tragic deaths, and a few unseemly insults. Regency AU, beginning shortly before Darcy's introduction to Netherfield. [Darcy/Lizzy]
1. Prologue

_Prologue - An Intriguing Couple_

**Authors' note:** This is the story of Darcy and Elizabeth, but with big differing complications that try prevent them from coming together in perfect harmonious matrimonial bliss; not the least of which is both pride and prejudice, but also a few other major things that differ from the book/movie story-line. Beware; a certain amount of angst will come, but I also have a soft spot for fluffy cuteness, so I hope to include a bit of both. Rated T for future chapters... and I do, very much love HEA's.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own and did not write the original Pride and Prejudice and any familiar characters/places/phrases/dialogue are Jane Austen's. That's it. All events, characteristics and etc. not belonging to Jane Austen are mine, including all unfamiliar characters and all the circumstances I put them through. I would never lower myself to purposely copying someone else's work, though with p&p being such a large fandom, ideas or events may seem similar to another authors' at some time or another.

Now on to the story, I really do hope you all enjoy it. [and the story is not really about Rose Maldridge, but she's necessary for the prologue... We'll be hearing from Elizabeth's POV in the first chapter and Mr Darcy's in the next :]

...&...&...&...&...

The room gleamed and sparkled, exuding warmth and good cheer while happy conversation and laughter floated through the air. She stepped out of the carriage, her initial fear and nervousness beginning to fade in the face of the welcoming ball room. Lambton wasn't a big town and balls were rare - other than at Farlington Manor, the closest ball room you would hope to come across was at Pemberley, a large estate that many had heard about but rarely seen. Rumours and tales surrounded the stately house, but balls were so uncommon that the residents of Lambton had given up hope of ever hoping to attend one there. The ball at Farlington Manor happened only twice a year, so those more fashionable people often went to London to experience a true 'Season' in town.

Unfortunately for one young lady, this was too much to hope for. Her parents had died, when she was but ten years old, of a fever that swept Lambton six years ago, and ever since, Rosemary Maldrigde had to live with her aunt and uncle on her father's side. The family had been estranged for many years but, in the wake of the tragic death, James and Petunia Maldridge were her only living relatives. The little girl of ten had no say in the matter.

Alone, but mostly treated civilly, she had grown up under the watchful eye of her Aunt Maldridge, a cold-mannered woman who cared a lot for ostentatious wealth and even more for public displays of condescension. Regard to such care of appearance was the main factor behind their taking in of Rose; their neighbours praised them for their kindness of 'looking after a girl they'd never had contact with before, after Mr Maldridge's dreadful brother cut ties with them years ago'. Mr and Mrs Maldridge lapped up the praise and allowed Rosemary's presence.

Despite living with such unpleasant people, Rose herself was not prone to such mannerisms of misplaced superiority, and had learnt to go about her daily life with relative contentment, settling in and adjusting as best she could. At ten, she had missed her parents dearly but over the years she had almost forgotten them and grew up to be a quiet, shy, but good-humoured girl who tolerated her only relations with equanimity. Her first introduction to society had been recent, when her aunt and uncle had taken her to town and presented her to court, but that had been all formality and everything stiff and uncomfortable. Now she would meet new people and perhaps make a friend or two - Rosemary wished with all her heart to have at least one friend her own age. She was finally out!

Rose smiled, feeling like a queen as she floated up the front steps behind her aunt and uncle, their earlier unkind words completely falling off her shoulders like water. Music graced her ears and excitement raced through her limbs.

"Good afternoon ma'am, Sir," said the butler at the door.

Mrs Maldridge nodded condescendingly at the man as she and her husband swept past him. Rose smiled shyly at the man, but he'd already turned to greet the next couple in line, hardly noticing her. Rose didn't mind.

Her attention was suddenly arrested by the other occupants of the room, the many beautiful ladies and gentlemen standing around the modest but friendly ballroom. As she followed her relations further into the room, it became immediately clear that something unusual was taking place this night. Snatches of conversation came and drifted, seemingly disconnected, but Rose suspected they were all very related.

"Did you hear - can't believe - " A young voice.

"Look at that dress! Isn't it - " A lady's shrill voice.

"He looks as uncomfortable as always, if you ask - " A gentleman speaking.

"See the way he stares - rude really." A matron disapproving.

" - connected. She moves - " A high-pitched, silly voice.

"Quite unusual, too." Another lady.

" - happy for him - good sort of chap." Another gentleman.

" - Attached. Married for love - " A sighing, sing-songing voice, like the one before.

" - a very disappointed family. On his side, at least. I heard that hers, though were _very_ happy. She came from a family of _five_ sisters! Five, can you imagine! And only one of the others married at the time. Lord, the lady's mother deserves a congratulations! She must have been so desperate to get her daughters married, though, frankly, considering their background, I'm shocked she managed to snatch such good matches for her daughters."

This last speech was spoken by a nasally-voiced young woman on Rose's left side, and she paused curiously, her aunt and uncle continuing forward and forgetting her presence as they lost themselves in the crowd. Feeling quite alone now, but not altogether concerned, she sidled closer to the nasally-voiced girl and her group. Another girl was now speaking.

"Well I should think that perhaps the mama had nothing to do with it; maybe it was love, at first sight." The sounds of dreamy girlish sighs followed, and Rose crept closer still, wondering who they were talking of.

"I think not!" said the first girl again, "What does she have that the rest of us do not? Why would he like _her_ above all others?"

"That is the point is it not? That he should see something particularly special in her that no one else has, even if she is not the most beautiful girl?" Rose interjected. Four pairs of eyes suddenly fixed on Rose, one hostile, the other three merely curious. Realising her grievous mistake, Rose blushed brightly. What had she been thinking, speaking up like that, especially to girls she had never been properly introduced to?

"And what, pray tell, is so 'particularly special' about her then?" The owner of the nasally unpleasant voice was a tall blonde with green eyes that were currently narrowed unpleasantly in her direction.

"Well I - " Rose was blushing so hard now that she was sure her face must resemble the ruddier breed of her namesake, "I was speaking in general really... I'm not - I am not acquainted with the lady, nor the gentleman."

An unladylike snort erupted from the tall unpleasant blonde as she turned back to her three so-far silent other friends, "The poor girl doesn't even know of whom she speaks!"

The girl who'd spoken up before, the one who'd suggested the 'love at first sight' idea, apparently felt a little sorry for Rose and said a little timidly, "Well, she might be right - I mean, maybe he does see something in her differently. And Miss - " she paused, then gestured with her hand at Rose before carrying on, "can hardly be blamed, for none of us really know either of the couple personally, not even you, Eunice."

Eunice looked down her narrow nose at Rose, "I'm sure I know more about them than this girl anyway, whoever _she_ is. It is terribly rude to eavesdrop and then interrupt a private conversation you know; very ill-mannered. Don't you agree Harriett?"

Feeling embarrassed and more than a little intimidated, Rose looked at the one named Harriett while speaking, "I apologise." She hesitated, then added quickly, "My name is Rosemary Maldridge. I'm here with Mr and Mrs Maldridge, my aunt and uncle."

One of the two girls who had yet to speak suddenly piped up, "Oh yes, we know you. Mrs Maldridge visits our mother quite often you see. Our mother is Mrs Stocks." She looked quite pleased with herself that she'd spoken, but when Eunice glared at her, she clammed up again.

"Oh, where are our manners!" Harriett, who seemed to be the bravest and kindest of the four girls, exclaimed, "My name is Harriett Montgomery, this is Eunice Bremmer and these are the twins; Ilene and Merle Stocks. It's a pleasure to meet you Miss Rosemary." Rose smiled back at Harriett gratefully.

Eunice fumed quietly to herself, but added, "Yes, it's nice to _finally_ be introduced, _Miss Maldridge_."

The twins, feeling this gave them leave to greet Rose as well, both said at once, "It's very nice to meet you Miss Maldridge," and they did so with almost matching smiles, so Rose gladly smiled back.

"It's very nice to meet you all as well." Rose assured them, glad that she had made a friend of sorts in Harriett and three acquaintances at least in Eunice and the twins. "I wonder though, who was it specifically you were speaking of earlier?"

"Oh, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy, of course!" Harriett enthused, "The most handsome couple I've ever seen, and the talk of the ton!" Ilene and Merle nodded in agreement, "They are here tonight too!" Harriett's eyes were bright and she began looking quickly around the room, attempting to look over the heads of all the people swarming around them.

"Yes, yes, they are here." Eunice said petulantly, "Though I do not think I agree about them being the most _handsome_ couple. Mrs Darcy could only be considered pretty; no more."

"Oh tosh Eunice, you're just jealous." Harriett didn't seem to notice Eunice's affronted look, as she continued excitedly pointing with a finger towards the far side of the room, "Oh look! There they are, see the tall, dark gentleman with the lady walking by the refreshment table just now?"

The other three girls were already following the couple with their eyes, so Rose looked over to see what, or whom, captured their attention. What she saw was mostly as Harriett described; a very tall gentleman with dark hair and a severe expression, following a lady who appeared quite oblivious to him. The lady was of no abnormal height, with pretty dark curls piled upon her head, and an expression, that even from across the room, Rose could see was anything but demure. The lady was moving quickly away from her husband, her smaller frame weaving through the tight crowd easier than her large husband, who must have been trying to retain his dignity while wading slowly after his run-away lover.

Curiosity piqued, and still watching the couple weaving in and out of the crowd, Rose asked, "But what is so interesting about them? They are certainly handsome and the gentleman looks quite attached, to be sure, but why so much fuss?"

Harriett looked away from the object of their interest to gaze oddly at Rose, "Don't you know who they are?" Rose's expression told that she didn't, so Harriett continued, "They're the owners of Pemberley, the biggest estate in Derbyshire! And half the county! They're very wealthy indeed, and Eunice here first heard that the lady's pin-money was - "

"Yes, they're extremely wealthy." Eunice interrupted impatiently, her irritation boiling over, "And they have all the desirable connections anyone could possibly want and I heard something mentioned about a title - "

"That is just rumour." Harriett injected.

"It is not!" Eunice protested, "I heard it is a very real possibility! But that's not just what's so interesting. The point is, all of these good things came with Mr Darcy when he married, but Mrs Darcy, Nee Bennet, was almost a country nobody, just like us! Apparently there was a huge scandal regarding one of her sisters, of which there are four others, and she came with almost no dowry at all! Hardly a temptation to a man like him, if you ask me. And then there was her family! I've heard talk from my grandfathers cousins' sister that they were very improper and disagreeable - "

"Eunice!" Harriett scolded lightly, "You're missing half the story." And turning back to speak to Rose, she explained, "Mrs Darcy was married before she married Mr Darcy you know, although there's a certain amount of suspicion and rumour surrounding how that ended..."

"She killed him." Eunice said bluntly.

The other four girls, including Rose, gasped. "Eunice!" Harriett exclaimed, shocked, "You should not say things like that in company, someone might hear you!"

Eunice shrugged, apparently unconcerned, "Well, that is what people were saying. The circumstances of the viscount's death was - "

"Viscount?" Rose interrupted, getting quite confused. Up until now, she'd been listening very eagerly and attentively.

"Oh yes, she married a viscount, but ..." Merle, who apparently knew quite a lot about the subject and was less shy than her twin, would have continued, except she found that her companions were no longer listening. They were again searching the crowd with their eyes for the man and woman in question, when Merle suddenly pointed Mrs Darcy out, "There!"

Mrs Darcy, Rose saw, was engaged in an apparently amusing conversation with two gentlemen, their smiles big and laughter loud, but Mr Darcy was nowhere in sight. "That's strange," Ilene commented quietly, after a while, "They haven't separated from each other all evening until now."

"But where has Mr Darcy gone?" All the girls scanned the room, but he was either hidden or was in another part of the assembly rooms. They couldn't find him.

"Maybe they had a disagreement?" Harriett suggested with a thoughtful frown, "Although somehow, I wouldn't like to believe it of them."

Eunice snorted like she'd done earlier, "I think you've read too many silly romance novels. Of course married couples disagree sometimes! And they have even more reason than most too, considering their unequal - "

"I would say they were quite equal upon entering the marriage state together, actually." Harriett disagreed, swiping her dark curls behind an ear, "After all, Mr Darcy can have little to complain about if a viscount would have had her!"

Conversation ceased for a moment as a young, and clearly unattached man scooted past their group. Merle giggled. The bachelor gave them all an odd look and then was gone, swallowed by the crowd. Merle giggled again.

"Who was that?" Rose asked. He'd been a nice looking gentleman but was clearly not as polished as someone of Mr Darcy's standing.

"That's Archibald!" Merle giggled even more.

Eunice rolled her eyes, but Harriett explained, "Merle here has been infatuated with Mr Archibald Baxter since anyone can remember, but ..." she looked at the girl in question, who suddenly looked disheartened, "... he hasn't realised what a gem she is just yet." Merle grinned again, her spirits restored at the sisterly praise.

"Anyway," Eunice interrupted the pleasant silence, "Why don't we try to find Mr Darcy? I'd just love to find him locked out on a balcony somewhere doing something improper with another lady."

"_Eunice_!" Harriett stage-whispered angrily, her eyes flicking around again as if she was afraid they'd all been heard and were in trouble, "You really _must_ stop talking of such things!"

"Well," Eunice said indignantly, "It's not odd that a gentleman would seek company elsewhere if his wife does not want him with her."

Suddenly all four girls, excluding Eunice, were flushed very deeply, but now even Harriett didn't bother to scold her. In the silence that followed, Rose cleared her throat, "Improper dealings or not, maybe we could try to find him until the dances start." The search for Mr Darcy would provide a diverting entertainment for them all until the dances started, at least.

"Yes." Harriett agreed quickly, "Shall we split up?"

Rose and Eunice nodded but the twins decided to stick together, which didn't surprise Rose very much. Leaving her companions, and feeling quite confident now that she knew a few people in the crowd, and having quite forgotten her relations, she started towards the refreshment table, which was where she'd last seen the mysterious couple together. The refreshment table was on a slightly raised platform so upon reaching it, she looked over the heads of the ballroom's occupants from her new perspective.

She could see Mrs Darcy better here, from her elevated view-point, as well as being closer, so she could almost hear her conversation with the two gentlemen, who appeared quite in awe of the lady. Then Mrs Darcy looked up and stared intently a ways across the room, her lips twitching momentarily. Following the direction of her gaze, Rose finally spotted Mr Darcy. He was backed up against one of the large central pillars surrounding the room, which explained why none of the girls had seen him earlier; and he was staring, quite unguardedly, back at his wife, his mouth and expression neutral, distant, if not slightly displeased and he looked everything the picture of arrogance, but as Rose looked she perceived that his eyes, which she could see very clearly, were neither distant or indifferent; they were in fact, very expressive. Just watching how he regarded his wife made Rose blush. Even across a room from each other, their connection was so obvious, they were communicating with just their eyes. Mr Darcy was not engaged in conversation with anyone, and he stood quite distant from everyone around him, but even his body language, the way he stood, the angle his face stilled at, was all suggesting that he was only very aware of a singular presence across the room; his eyes never wavered from their object.

Mrs Darcy, on the other hand, was engaged in animated conversation. It suddenly occurred to Rose that perhaps Mr Darcy was feeling a little jealous. His beautiful wife was, after all, having a very enjoyable conversation with two amiable gentlemen without him. To support this theory, Rose noticed that when Mrs Darcy suddenly laughed at something, a small frown suddenly appeared on Mr Darcy's brows. When Mrs Darcy leaned in closer to one of the gentlemen to say something in a lower voice, Mr Darcy noticeably stiffened and took a step forward before pausing, his glare trained purposefully at his wife's visage. She was now ignoring him however and didn't even glance up at him. It almost seemed like she was baiting him on purpose, just to get this reaction from him. Although quite appalled at this behaviour, Rose had to believe that Mrs Darcy didn't mean to hurt her husband, but was merely of a teasing disposition and must take some strange delight in provoking him. Mrs Darcy chuckled at something amusing the man on her left said. Rose realised with delight that she could hear it, her laughter was light and enjoyable, a sound that made you want to smile and know what the jest was. Perhaps it was Mrs Darcy's laughter that had so bewitched her Mr Darcy. One of the gentlemen was obviously also quite enamoured with her, as he moved surreptitiously closer to Mrs Darcy, and it was then that Rose realised with an indignant gasp that he let his gaze wander lower than her face - far lower!

Snapping her attention back to where Mr Darcy was, or had been, for he was no longer there, it became apparent that she wasn't the only one who noticed the supposed gentleman letting his eyes wander improperly. Mr Darcy was wading determinedly through the crowd towards Mrs Darcy, his expression thunderous. People parted to get out of his way upon seeing his expression and one lady even gasped and exclaimed, "Why Mr Darcy, whatever is the matter!?" but unfortunately she was thoroughly ignored and Mr Darcy was not to be distracted from his object; which was becoming quite obvious to Rose. When Mrs Darcy glanced over, hearing the commotion, her eyes widened and she said something to her companions and moved away from both them and her approaching husband. The ungentlemanly man followed her with his eyes, but his expression quickly changed to one of alarm upon realising that suddenly before him was Mr Darcy, the husband of the woman he'd been inappropriately eyeing.

Nervously, he took a step back from the taller man's imposing figure, while Mr Darcy glared at him and began to speak lowly. Even from here, Rose could see the shorter man swallow uncomfortably. She, seemingly, wasn't the only one watching. The two men had created quite the scene; half the ball rooms' occupants were staring openly. Rose wondered if either man was aware of this, as they seemed entirely too focused on the other to notice. Mr Darcy obviously had fury driving his intentions, his eyes narrowed dangerously, while the other man, stricken in terror, couldn't look away for fear of the possibility of Mr Darcy unexpectedly striking him. Then abruptly, Mr Darcy turned and left, his gaze once again finding that of his wifes' who met his eyes with a now unfathomable expression. She didn't look very pleased and at this moment he still looked very furious. The crowd parted around him uneasily and Rose realised with alarm that Mr Darcy was walking straight towards her! Frozen, the room strangely silent, she stood there as Mr Darcy approached, then stepped up to join her on the raised plat-form. A servant poured him a drink, which he took, and then ignoring everyone, he strode away, back through the crowd and disappeared through a door leading to an outdoor balcony. The room breathed an audible sigh of relief.

Just then, an older man suddenly called out, in an attempt at a jubilant tone; "How about we start-up some dances now? For what is a ball without them?" And agreeing collectively, people began to resume conversations while making room in their midst to create an open space for dancing. Couples started to line up but Rose couldn't take her eyes off Mrs Darcy. Her expression was very troubled and her eyes kept flicking to the door her husband had disappeared behind. The music started up and the dances began.

"Rosemary! There you are!"

Startled, Rose looked up to find her aunt striding towards her, "We've been looking for you everywhere, you ungrateful girl! It's no way for a young girl to go disappearing off on your own, who knew where you could have been!" Her aunt eyed her closely and then lowering her voice maliciously, said, "You haven't gone off with a boy have you?"

"No!" Rose protested indignantly, "I was here the whole time." Her aunt hmmphed and pulled her away back to where her uncle stood with some of their friends. Rose allowed herself to be led along behind her aunt in a docile manner, all the while conscious of the gossip going on around her.

"I always knew something was amiss!" declared one woman somewhere.

"Hmm, yes, it is quite strange..." came the reply.

Rose noticed another woman glaring at Mrs Darcy as she said, "Ungrateful, indecent woman! Flirting with other men right under her husband's nose!"

"Yes, it did certainly seem that way," intoned a man who might have been her husband, "Poor Darcy. A man of his position deserves better."

Rose hurried after her aunt to get away from the mean gossip, but could not escape it. Everywhere people seemed to be speaking of it and when they found her uncle among the crowd, he was standing with a lady and another man. Their identities soon became clear as to be the twins parents; Mr and Mrs Stocks. Mr Stocks was a round man, short and large, with a very ruddy countenance and a bare head; the scowl upon his face did nothing to lighten his over-all displeasing figure. His wife, Mrs Stocks, on the other hand, was a fair-haired lady and though not particularly tall or short, she too was on the plump side, which gave Rose to understand immediately that they were a family of wealthy means. The large, gaudy jewelry adorning - or rather, weighing down - Mrs Stocks ears and bodice added to this assumption.

"Ah, my dears!" exclaimed Mr Maldridge upon seeing his wife and niece, quite purposefully interrupting Mr Stocks who had been talking quite dully about how the musicians instruments hurt his ears, "There you are," he then added to them, but looking at Rose, quite sternly, "How nice of you to join us."

"Thank you James, Miss Rose was just getting herself a drink." Rose noticed with displeasure that her aunt said in a manner as though she herself didn't believe it.

"Hmm, yes, it seems everyone is in need of a drink this night," Mr Stocks muttered, "Even that Darcy fellow, disagreeable as he is."

"Oh yes?" said Mrs Maldridge with interest, "Do you know the Darcy's very well?"

"Well, I've spoken to Mrs Darcy, a perfectly amiably lady, much more so than her husband I assure you - " he here wiggled his eyebrows in a way that made Rose feel quite sick, as he continued, "Mr Darcy, now he's a proud and inattentive man. Why, Mrs Frenson might have been choking the other day and he wouldn't have moved from his wife's side!"

"The other day, you say?"

Mrs Stocks answered then, "Oh yes, we were calling upon the Frenson's and the Darcy's happened to be there too. Whatever happened today couldn't have been Mrs Darcy's fault, she's perfectly dear, her husband must just be far too high-handed."

"Hmm, indeed," her husband agreed, just as Merle and Ilene Stocks appeared together, one on each side of their parents, who were greeted and introduced before Ilene explained that they were already acquainted with Rose. "Superb!" he said, beaming with a full set of large teeth.

"Yes," Merle said excitedly, "Now all we need to complete the evening is a few nice gentlemen to dance with!"

"Hmm, calm down dear, I'm sure there's a nice gentleman just waiting to dance with you - " Suddenly Mr Stocks stopped talking, and his companions turned to see the cause; and what a surprising cause it was! Or rather _he_ was a suprising cause; for Mr Darcy himself was walking towards them and stopped at their circle. No one had even noticed his silent return to the ballroom.

"Good evening Mr and Mrs Stocks." Mr Darcy said gravely.

"Oh good evening Sir!" said Mrs Stocks, who regained her faculties first, her husband seeming still quite shocked at his appearance. Mr Darcy nodded but didn't say anything immediately, so she continued, "Oh, and may we introduce our acquaintances, the Maldridge's?"

Mr Darcy started suddenly as though surprised as he regarded Rose's aunt and uncle and herself with sudden interest, but he agreed and Mr Stocks introduced them all. Then it was the Maldridge's and Stocks' turn to be surprised as Mr Darcy immediately asked Miss Maldridge for the next dance.

"Me?" Rose asked, incredulously, blushing furiously at the same time. Mr Darcy made no reply to that, so she added, "I mean, yes, of course, thank you Mr Darcy." he nodded, his indifferent facade so unfaltering that Rose couldn't help but wonder why he asked for the dance at all. She could feel Ilene and Merle's eyes on her, their stares questioning and envious, but they stayed silent in the presence of their parents. Rose had the distinct feeling that she would be questioned thoroughly later.

"Is your back feeling better today Mr Stocks?" The tall, handsome gentleman suddenly inquired of the short, round gentleman, who looked quite startled at the abruptness of address and change of topic.

"Oh - yes. Yes, its feeling quite better now, thank you Mr Darcy, thank you, and... how is Mrs Darcy this evening?"

Mr Darcy shifted slightly, his eyes flicking up and away from the present company for a moment, though not resting on anything for long as he answered, somewhat uncomfortably, Rose thought, "I dare say she is as well as ever."

"Good! Good..." there was a pause as he trailed off, but luckily the music was starting to wind down now, saving them from more awkward conversation.

Mr Darcy stated that the next dance was about to start and took his leave of the others, while a startled Rose took Mr Darcy's proffered arm shyly, feeling very young and small indeed next to the tall and imposing gentleman as he led her away, feeling the stares of six pairs of eyes on them acutely.

"How very odd..." she'd heard Mrs Stocks whisper as they'd turned away. Rose silently agreed.

Even as they reached the other dancing couples, it was perfectly obvious to Rose that her partner wasn't really paying much attention to her; his gaze wandered away to look over the crowds too often for that, but even so, Rose didn't particularly mind, so while the dance went on, she satisfied herself with examining the strange gentleman that had a large part in causing such a stir. Mr Darcy, she noticed, was a proficient dancer, despite his obvious inattention and seeming lack of interest in his partner, and he was surprisingly graceful for such a tall man. The line of his mouth was straight and sever, as she'd noticed earlier, but up close she could see clearly the strain about his lips as though he presently pondered a very unpleasant subject. His nose was noble and straight, as was his other features for that matter - such as his chin, and the lines of his face were very angular, with a broad forehead, currently creased slightly at the brows. He was completely clean-shaven, which was to be expected, and his hair was immaculately groomed while a lock of hair still managed to rest on his forehead. He was, over-all, _very_ well-favoured. His eyes however, were the feature that most attracted her interest, as they seemed unsettled, a large comparative difference to the rest of his bearing and the way they had looked so steadily, so unwaveringly when he had looked upon his wife earlier. They were a very deep brown and were currently quite expressionless as they -

Rose was abruptly brought out of her musings. He was now looking at her!

She managed to not trip as she stepped towards him as the dance required and waited for him to speak; "Miss Maldridge," he began, "Are you enjoying yourself this night?"

"I - Yes, I am, thankyou." she stuttered, her cheeks flushed, "Er... and you, Sir?"

He hesitated before nodding slightly, seeming uninterested. Then he started a new topic, "Miss Maldridge - I hope I do not bring sad memories to mind by speaking of them, but I thought I'd mention that I was quite acquainted with your parents."

"My parents?" she asked incredulously, extremely surprised.

"Yes indeed. I heard you were quite young when they passed." He looked at her and she thought she heard something like compassion in his voice, though she couldn't see his face as she had walk around one of the other dance couples in the set.

"I was... pray tell, how did you know them?"

He pursed his lips, "I was very good friends with them while they lived, your father especially. He was a university professor when I went to Cambridge, though he quit not long after I left. You were but a babe when I first knew him."

"What was he like?" she asked, barely containing her eagerness. Her aunt and uncle hadn't given a favourable impression of him at all, and though she had been ten, and able to remember her parents after they passed, her memories were still quite limited and she longed to know more about them, and how they had fit into the society she was being introduced to.

"He was a good man. Fair and knowledgeable, kind to those beneath him. He was a man you could be proud to call father." he assured her, a tiny hint of a smile curling his mouth, which somehow softened his whole countenance considerably.

Was Mr Darcy perhaps implying that her father had been like a father figure to him? The thought made her suddenly extremely happy and she found herself a little teary eyed as she replied, "Thank you Mr Darcy, you are very kind."

He nodded once, his reserved countenance once again in place as he observed, "You look a lot like your mother."

"I do?" she asked, shooting a happy smile at him when she turned and skipped around him with the other women, "I always did wonder."

"Her hair colour was very similar to yours and... you have the same ears."

"Ears?" Rose repeated, perplexed. He seemed to say such unexpected things all the time that it seemed she needed confirmation for every second thing he declared.

"Yes, for your fathers' were very rather large and ... noticeable." Rose had the distinct impression that he found this amusing, perhaps remembering a fond memory of her father. She could remember that he did have rather noticeable ears - they were large and red, as Mr Darcy described, and stuck out from his head quite humorously, giving him the appearance of something like a kindly old troll... except perhaps better looking. Rose was extremely glad she did not resemble her father in that respect. She smiled at him but he regarded her as stoutly as ever, if perhaps a little less severely.

The dance soon came to an end and he escorted her silently back to her relations whereupon he bowed and walked away; Rose did not see where he went, but she soon found herself surrounded by three eager girls.

"But where has Merle got to?" Rose asked in confusion as Ilene and Harriett badgered her for what Mr Darcy said and what was it like dancing with him. Eunice watched patiently, although she too, must have been eager for details.

"Oh, she's dancing at the moment. Her partner isn't very agreeable, but seeing as he has asked _me_ for the next set, I can hardly judge." Ilene said contentedly.

"Oh." Rose said nodding, frustrating the other girls with her reluctance and hesitation to talk about who they wanted to hear of.

"Now about Mr Darcy!" Harriett finally cried, "Was he agreeable or terrible or just ...tolerable?"

"His manners were perfectly pleasing, if a little distant. I can hardly think it a fault though, he seemed to have a lot on his mind."

"But why did he ask _you_?" Eunice interrupted, "I mean, Merle said you weren't even acquainted with him before he asked you!"

"I wasn't and it was all quite strange, I admit." Rose then reluctantly told them of what Mr Darcy had said after they demanded that she tell them, whereupon they then all claimed that it made perfect sense now. According to them, Mr Darcy was merely paying his respects to his friends' family by honouring the daughter with a dance. Eunice made it sound almost like an insult, but Rose decided not to comment.

"So where is he now?" Rose asked.

"Oh he just went out onto that balcony and oh, La! Mrs Darcy has just left through the same door too." Harriett said excitedly, "Honestly Rose, you should have seen them when they entered together, they really did look like quite the couple; very elegant, noble and very impressive. Then they split and haven't been together until now."

Eunice got a decidedly mischievous look about her as she said, "I don't suppose it would be very lady-like of us if we were to spy on them..." The girls exchanged looks and giggles, all quite ready to disregard this little impropriety for the moment, except Harriett who cautioned her friends;

"I don't know... if we _were_ caught - "

"We won't!" said Eunice as she dragged Harriett by the hand with Rose and Ilene towards the doors. They didn't plan to go through them, they just planned to loiter a little bit and look inconspicuous. With this accomplished, they were able to see, but unfortunately not hear, Mr and Mrs Darcy. The two were on opposite sides of the balcony, Mrs Darcy having very clearly been the one to put the space between them, for even as they watched, Mr Darcy stepped towards her and Mrs Darcy backed up a little. None of the girls missed the decidedly unhappy look on that lady's face or the hurt one on her husbands'.

"They're having an argument!" Ilene whispered with wide eyes, stating what was already rather obvious.

Eunice looked smug, "I told you they were an unhappy couple, not suited at all!" Harriett hissed at her to hush, but she continued, "It's really quite hopeless, I think. She's obviously angry at him, but the more she pushes him away, the more likely he is to seek comfort elsewhere and therefore the angrier she'll get. I'm assured they are quite doomed already to an unhappy marriage. Serves them both right - "

"Eunice, stop that at once!"

" - for he married below himself and she obviously married into a position where she didn't belong. Now they're - Ow! " at this point Harriett actually kicked Eunice's ankles, earning herself a glare. From then they watched the spectacle in silence, half concealed by a large, heavy curtain and a strategically placed pot-plant.

Mr and Mrs Darcy really did look quite well together, Rose found herself thinking. It was quite a pity they seemed so at odds with each other, they seemed otherwise to be a good match. Both were dark-haired and dark-eyed, and the way the gentleman was really quite taller than his wife leant him an almost protective air, for at the moment he looked anything but threatening. He was currently speaking quietly and quite vehemently in almost a pleading manner to his wife, who was determinedly looking away from him, out over the town. Rose found herself thinking that if only a man cared about her the way Mr Darcy obviously did for his wife, then she would be quite content with life. Even Rose, young as she was, was aware that love in the upper classes was not as common as it should be; there were far many more inducements to marry than for love.

Rose desperately found herself wishing that the couple could settle their differences and love and be happy together; to be a real-life version of all the wild romance novels that young women of her time liked to read. She knew of no one currently alive that were happily and blissfully married [her aunt and uncle certainly weren't; they hated their niece only slightly more than they hated each other,] and though she would have liked to believe her parents had a happy marriage, she wouldn't ever know for sure, so she wanted to at least know of one happily married couple to be as an example for her. What hope of a good match did she have otherwise, if she didn't know what to expect in a good marriage?

With these perplexing and weighty thoughts on her mind, there was one question that stood out and begged for an immediate answer; Why was Mrs Darcy acting so cold towards her husband?

...&...&...&...&...

_... I'm a new writer; please kindly tell me what you think by leaving a review. I'm always open to suggestion and critique :) Chapter 1 coming soon; "Amusing Musings and Notorious Nightmares"_

_~childofthetrueking_


	2. Chapter 1

_Chapter 1. Amusing Musings and Notorious Nightmares_

**Authors' note:** We start this story a few days before the Lucas's dinner party. The Meryton ball happened a few months ago. Mr Bingley, Miss Bingley and the Hursts have already taken residence of Netherfield, but Mr Darcy is not with them. Mr Bingley is subtly courting Jane without the hinderance of Darcy to dissuade him.

Thank you to all who reviewed, it really makes me feel like my writing is appreciated. And also thanks to my two wonderful betas who help so much :)

...&...&...&...&...

"Mr Bennet! Mr Bennet! Oh, did you hear? Did you hear the news!?" Mrs Bennet stumbled into Mr Bennet's library, shoving open the thick wooden doors and almost slipping on a ribbon that had been carelessly dropped to the floor.

While Mrs Bennet steadied herself and caught her breath, Mr Bennet turned in his chair, lowered the book and looked over his spectacles as a single brow rose, "And what, my dear, is the news that you find important enough to disturb my solitude, at this time of the day?"

"Hmm, Yes well," Mrs Bennet cleared her throat, "I have just received a visit from Mrs Long. Do you recall when Mr Bingley first came into the neighbourhood and there was all that terrible fuss about going to visit him, a new rich man belonging to the neighbourhood and all that nerve-wracking business, that you said - "

"Yes my dear, please get to the point." Mr Bennet interrupted, putting his book down and beginning to wipe his spectacles with a small white cloth.

Mrs Bennet glared at her husband, "You take great delight in vexing me. I can't imagine how I've put up with it all these years. But as I was saying, you insisted you wouldn't visit him, even though you had already done so - and in secret too! - and you set my nerves all a-flutter and you said - "

"Yes my dear," Mr Bennet sighed, wanting her to move along quicker and get to the point, "I said a lot of things that day. I remember asking you how a rich man could affect our daughters, whereupon you said you wanted him to marry our daughters, or," he paused with a slight smile at his fuming wife, "_daughter_, as we have discovered he is not a polygamist."

"Yes, yes - carry on, and then...?" Mrs Bennet was getting quite impatient with how long this was taking, although originally she had thought that finally _she'd _be the one to hold her spouse in suspense.

"Well yes, _hurrumph_, then you insisted I go see him, I suggested sending a letter to him and then you all found out that I'd met the - "

"Before that!" Mrs Bennet cried, "You said something in particular, about _other_ gentlemen."

"I did?" Mr Bennet feigned confusion, followed by enlightenment, "Oh, yes, I suppose I do recall saying, at the time of telling you that I had no wish to further visit Mr Bingley and his party," Mrs Bennet tried to interrupt again, but Mr Bennet continued, "- something to do with visiting other possible suiters. And actually, I suppose my _exact_ words were 'When there are fifty such men, then I shall visit them all!'" Mr Bennet chuckled at the look on his wife's countenance.

"You did say so!" Mrs Bennet exclaimed triumphantly, "And I have news that will encourage you to live up to your words!"

"Indeed?" Mr Bennet turned an inquisitive eye on his spouse, "Pray tell me, fifty rich new gentlemen have not moved suddenly into the neighbourhood?"

"Well," Mrs Bennet gasped, "Certainly not fifty, but surely enough to induce the same outcome!"

At this precise moment there was a loud pandemonium of noises, for Mr Bennet's two youngest daughters had arrived, bursting into the room with Miss Lydia exclaiming, "Mama, have you seen my pale gold ribbon? It looked so very good on me and I think Kitty has stolen it - but she insists she does not have it!"

"I do not!" Kitty insisted, shoving her sister, "Lydia always blames me for everything! She has probably dropped it - "

"Oh hush Kitty, I have found it now." Lydia said happily as she stooped to pick it up from the floor, being the very ribbon Mrs Bennet had almost slipped on earlier. Forgetting her earlier accusations of thievery, she promptly grinned at her mother and dashed out of the room as suddenly as she'd appeared.

Kitty sighed, pouting. "It's not fair Mama! I always get blamed for her carelessness. She had better take better care of her things, for if she does not, I really _shall_ take something of hers and then she shall be sorry!"

Mrs Bennet glared at her second youngest daughter, "You shall do no such thing, kitty! You shall forgive your sister and that shall be that!"

Kitty cried out in frustration and then flounced out of the room after her sister exclaiming, "It's not fair and mama always agrees with Lydia!"

When they were finally quite alone again, for Mr Bennet had observed the scene with silent amusement, he remarked wryly to his wife, "Yes, Kitty should forgive her sister, a girl who is both friend and enemy, because nothing will vex Lydia more than being told by Kitty that she been forgiven."

Mrs Bennet didn't find much amusement in Mr Bennet's wit, so she huffed and changed the subject, "Yes, my dear, you're probably quite right, but... I'm sure you'd like to know my news now."

Mr Bennet nodded, absently glancing out his window and getting distracted as he saw his second eldest daughter, Lizzy, looking back at him with an eyebrow quirked. She had just returned from her morning walk and heard a bit of the earlier commotion. His lips twitched, but he was brought back to awareness of what his wife was saying when she suddenly announced, "And so, my dear husband, you will have to call on them and introduce them to us when we go to the Lucas's dinner party!" Fanny Bennet was smiling widely at him, very expectantly.

Mr Bennet blinked, "I'm very sorry my dear, I fear my thoughts quite took me away, pray tell me whom I should be visiting and why is it necessary?"

"Oh Mr Bennet! The least you could have done is listen, but now I have to repeat myself - which I take no pleasure in, but I will tell you again. Since Blytherton was left by the Mason's family last week, it has been empty; until now! And they only thought to let the neighbourhood know who would be taking it yesterday; Mrs Mason told Mrs Goulding, who told Mrs Long, who then came to tell _me_, and oh! It is such a fantastic thing!" Mrs Bennet cried joyfully, "You would never guess, Mr Bennet, who has taken it!"

Mr Bennet had decided silence had been the best option, as interrupting would have merely stalled her and she would have talked even more before getting to the point, so now he nodded in agreement, "You're probably right, my dear, I have no idea who could have taken it."

Mrs Bennet beamed, "Our girls will surely _all_ be married, if only you will call on them! Can you imagine, Mr Bennet, three rich, young, _eligible_ gentlemen, all under the same roof, as _well_ as Mr Bingley at Netherfield, who I'm convinced will surely be engaged to Jane before long, and my daughters will meet them all and _ooh_!" Mrs Bennet was keening and sighing by turns at her daughters' good fortune, while Mr Bennet watched on with barely concealed amusement at the state of his wife, "I'm convinced Lydia will surely capture one of the gentlemen, and Kitty too, if she is lucky. Lizzy may even have a chance - if she will but put effort into her looks and stop her forays into the wild!"

"Walking about the land on our estate is hardly 'foraying into the wild'. But besides that, my dear, you have not yet imparted to me who _they_ are."

"Oh yes, and this is the best part! One of the gentlemen is apparently Mr Bingley's good friend from Derbyshire - he is quite rich, with ten _thousand_ pounds a year, far more than Bingley, and the other two gentlemen are sons of an earl!" Here Mrs Bennet was so very excited that Mr Bennet was afraid she would collapse on his floor at any moment. He gestured to a discreet servant to fetch Mrs Bennet's smelling salts.

Mrs Bennet continued, her voice rising in volume to painful volumes, like an incessant crescendo, "The first and second sons! _Viscount! _He will be an earl one day and if one of my girls caught him, she would be a _countess_!" She started flapping her hands around her face, before adding, "The second son isn't much of a catch; he's a colonel with almost nothing to his name, without even the chance of a title! Well... unless, his brother died, but that _is_ rather unlikely..."

"Mrs Bennet, you are not considering unspeakable acts for the sake of marrying your daughters off, are you? If so, you should know that I should sleep very ill indeed, knowing that a woman capable of such things lay in the room opposite mine."

Mrs Bennet didn't appreciate Mr Bennet's humour at all as she said indignantly, "Mr Bennet, if I were capable of such things, a viscount would not be the first, I assure you!"

Mr Bennet raised an amused eyebrow as he stood up, "Well my dear, thank you for that comforting thought. It shall let me rest easier tonight. If something unexpected should happen to the viscount, then I shall be wary. In the meantime, though I have no idea why you should assume any of them would be interested in any of our daughters - least of all Lydia - I will indeed contact them, or at least ask Mr Long for an introduction. And you - well you shall promise never to enter my study without prior permission." His tone was quite uncharacteristically firm.

Mrs Bennet gaped. "But I - !"

"I have always despised the word 'but', Mrs Bennet. I have now wasted the better part of a half-hour, learning of something that could have been told in full in less than ten minutes; so next time, if you please, tell the girls and let them convey it to me. I should save a lot more time if this had been the case in the beginning." Mr Bennet walked to the study door, leaving his wife quite shocked in his wake. He had wanted to continue reading and had no real reason to leave his study, but as he doubted Mrs Bennet planned on leaving him if he remained, and he was not the type of man to use violence or physical force to carry out his endeavors, he decided to head to the kitchen. He fancied himself a little peckish after the tiring information and equally tiring wife he had just endured. "Mrs Bennet, I should like to have dinner a little later tonight. Convey this to Hill, would you dear?" he asked over his shoulder, and walked on to the kitchens. A nice roll sounded just right to soothe his troubled mind.

New men in the neighbourhood, just after the militia had encamped in Meryton, set him _very_ ill at ease. Too many men in the neighbourhood were bound to cause trouble.

...&...&...&...&...

Elizabeth Bennet stared down at her sister. Jane was looking up at her worriedly, her blue-gray eyes sparkling even as she shaded her face with her hands from the glare of the overhead sun. "You'll be coming down soon, won't you?"

Elizabeth laughed, "I've almost got enough." She reached for a pear above her head, plucked it and gently dropped it down to Jane, who caught it and put it into the almost full basket she carried.

After returning from her walk earlier that morning, she had seen her parents in private discussion through the parlor window. Her father had obviously found the whole conversation amusingly tedious, and she had not failed to notice how his gaze invited her to interrupt them, but she found she could not. She had to allow her mother to speak to her husband occasionally, even if Mr Bennet had not wished it. Shortly thereafter, she had walked inside to find Mrs Hill telling Jane that they needed to harvest the pears so that they could be ripened properly in the store-room. Jane had then asked Elizabeth to accompany her. Everyone knew that Jane did not climb trees; she was quite terrified of heights. Lizzy enjoyed the excuse to do an activity that was generally thought of as unladylike, so she had agreed to climb the tree and pick the pears to throw down to her sister.

"It's a really nice view from up here." Elizabeth commented, lifting her eyes to gaze across the land from her high vantage point, "You can almost see the tree break that signals the border to Netherfield."

When Jane didn't reply, the girl in the pear tree looked down. Jane was looking thoughtfully at the tree trunk, "Can you see the house, Lizzy?"

Elizabeth laughed, "Why, are you interested in spying on a certain someone?"

Even from high up in the tree, Lizzy noticed Jane's blush, "Of course not. How could you think such a thing? I would not spy on Mr Bingley!"

"Mr Bingley? Whoever said anything about Mr Bingley?" Lizzy teased, "I was talking of Miss _Caroline_ Bingley."

"Oh..." Jane's blush had deepened further as she realised her mistake, "Caroline? Why would I wish to spy on Caroline?"

Lizzy's laughed in reply as she threw two more pears down at her sister, ensuring she caught the first one before dropping the second, "I think Caroline herself would assume it would be because you admired her taste in fashion and wished to imitate her style before she even left Netherfield. If I see you and Miss Bingley wearing the same dress, I shall know why."

Jane shook her head with a light laugh, "You should not tease Miss Bingley so - she does not deserve it. And you know I cannot climb trees."

"I shall remain suspicious dear sister." Lizzy grinned and examined a pretty leaf that had turned a lovely golden colour as the season wore on.

"Lizzy! The last time I tried to climb I fell and hurt my arm so badly I became ill for three weeks. I have no wish to repeat the incident."

"No, of course not," her sister agreed, adding contemplatively, "Though if you _had _wanted to spy on your Mr Bingley, I shouldn't have blamed you at all."

"Lizzy, he is not _my_ Mr Bingley."

"I daresay he will be rather soon though. He will not leave Hertfordshire without asking for you." The younger sister nodded decisively, then said, "And _you_ shall be terribly happy, but _I_ should not be happy to see you go - I would miss you unbearably." And with that declaration, she stood from where she had crouched in a fork in the trunk, reaching for a fat pear that seemed just beyond her reach.

"Lizzy, I could not leave - what are you doing?" Jane's voice was high with fright by the end of her speech as she saw her sister reaching out farther than she usually did, balancing on her toes.

"Last one," Lizzy called as she stretched further, putting a hand on the branch above her to put her weight on as she leaned out further... almost had it. Then Lizzy heard a dramatic crack, felt her weight shift, a gasp was torn from her throat and then she was plummeting towards the earth, not having time to contemplate how much it might hurt to hit the ground. But suddenly, she did hit something, heard Jane cry out in shock and saw a mans' face staring down at her. He smiled. Such a handsome smile. Then she fainted.

...&...&...&...&...

_Lizzy ran down the long hall, her breath coming out short and fast as her footfalls echoed dully down the unfamiliar corridor._

_It was following. It was coming. It was getting closer._

_It had begun when she'd accidentally opened a door, thinking it was her private chambers, only to feel a gust of frighteningly cold air gush at her from within the dark room. Her spine had started to tingle, the fine hairs on her neck lifting as she shivered, staring into the dark depths of the room. Something indefinable moved and she had bolted, she ran. But it followed._

_She must get to safety. One of these doors would bring relief. She stopped abruptly at the first door she came to, and yanked it open. It looked neat, tidy, in order, but dull, as though it had rarely been lived in. No help was to be found here._

_She rushed to the next room, gasping as it almost swung open under her fingertips. It was messy, lived-in, homely, comfortable. Welcoming. Deceptively safe. But somehow, Lizzy knew help could not be found here either._

_Desperately, she ran to the last door in the corridor. The darkness was closer, closing in every moment and this was the last door, or she'd be trapped! Her hands grasped the old handle, but it wouldn't open, wouldn't budge. She was panicking. Locked. She was locked out! She couldn't go back, even though she wished she'd stayed in one of the previous rooms. Her breathing was gaspy and ragged. She continued to tug hopelessly at the door in strengthless bursts, knowing it was completely stuck._

_But then it opened from the inside, just as she feared the darkness would consume her._

_She darted a look inside the room. It was dark. She couldn't see a thing, but it felt frightening, unwelcoming, lonely. A feeling spread from her upper back down her spine like a tiny trickle of freezing water moving inch by inch, painfully slow and lingering. She had no other choice; it was this room or be lost to the darkness of the hall. She stepped in, shut and locked the door behind her, when suddenly a dark, masculine chuckle reverberated around the room. It suddenly occurred to Elizabeth that she was still trapped - but with a different kind of evil. A form appeared and hands reached out for her._

_She couldn't escape._

...&...&...&...&...

"Lizzy are you coming in for supper?"

Elizabeth looked back at her sister framed in the door, smiling slightly as she called back, "I'll be there soon."

Jane nodded with her usual serene smile and turned back into the house. Elizabeth turned her back on the quaint building so that she could stare at the beautiful vision before her. The pond had a golden haze that covered the waters' surface; it looked magical as the late afternoon sun hit it at an angle. Dragonflies and water bugs looked like fairies dancing across its surface. It looked mystical, like something from a dream, and she was standing right on the edge of it.

Lizzy sighed softly. This was just what she needed to calm down after that terrible dream had shaken her up and left her mind disturbed and restless. After waking from the dream to find herself breathless and hot, she had desperately needed cool air and fresh, open spaces. She had escaped here; her favourite place. It was a small glade at the edge of the pond, with a large tree whose branches she could shelter under in bad whether, or climb and sit in. She'd certainly never fallen out of this tree.

It still irritated her when she thought about it. How could she have managed to fall out of the tree? And worse, to have someone catch her? Then faint in his arms and wake up in bed after experiencing the most terrible nightmare! Jane had told her that it had been Mr Wickham that had just managed to catch her. Apparently he had come to Longbourn with Mr Denny to call on them. While Lizzy quite liked Mr Wickham, and he was certainly a handsome and amiable gentlemen, the idea of being caught by him and then fainting, was a very unpleasant one. Jane had also assured her that Mr Wickham had been the perfect gentleman, offering to carry her back to the house and then handing her over to Mr Bennet who had been shocked to discover his favourite daughter quite unaware and out of her senses. Mortification didn't begin to describe her feelings. She wasn't sure how she'd be able speak to him without blushing in mortification now that he'd held her in his arms while she'd been unconscious. It was unthinkable! And the dream following all this had so unsettled her that she still didn't feel quite able to return to the house yet. Thinking of what or if it could mean anything was very troubling. The Meryton reverend had once said that some dreams had meanings; that they could be sent to warn people of trouble coming. Troubling indeed.

Lizzy sat down, putting her chin in her hands as she stared at the still water, sun beams gently filtering down through the leaves of the great tree. 'Lizzy's tree', as Jane had once entitled it. As a child she had climbed it many times. The large boughs were strong and wide, holding her weight like great, strong, unyielding arms reaching towards the sky. These days, as a young and proper gentlewoman, she could not climb it so much as she wished, but at rare, differing times, she flaunted propriety and climbed high into its farthest reaches when she thought no one saw. She smiled and rested there for another half hour, pondering on her dream and what she discovered upon waking from it, before heading back home.

The sun was going down as she walked in through the back door, where a maid looked up to smile briefly at her before going back to her chores.

"Lizzy!" Jane exclaimed as she stepped down from the staircase, "There you finally are. I have been so desperately wanting to talk with you, come up and let us rest a while until supper."

Elizabeth grinned and allowed herself to be tugged along behind her sister as she asked, "How is Mama and Papa?"

"Oh!" Jane gasped, raising a hand to her lips, before suddenly giggling and giving her sister a very happy smile, "While you were sleeping and outside all this time, you missed Mama's news. You would never guess!"

"Wouldn't I?" her sister replied teasingly, as they sat togther on their shared bed, "Unless Mr Bingley has proposed to you today, I can only imagine that she is delighted about an upcoming ball, or perhaps she has discovered that a person of importance will be attending the Lucases dinner party?"

"No, Lizzy, Mr Bingley has not proposed, though he did call in while you were sleeping, and he asked after your health when he heard you were ill. He was very sweet... but you have distracted me!" Jane suddenly realised she had become side-tracked, as she abruptly started speaking of what she had wanted to tell her sister earlier, "Mama has much more cause to be excited than for any of that; though you are right in a way. Mama has indeed discovered that persons of import will be coming to the dinner party - and not just that - but Blytherton has also been let."

Elizabeth regarded her sister with interest, not unlike her father might have, "Really? And Mama must know who these people are or she would not be so nervous and happy. In fact," she declared laughingly, "I think I could guess. An unmarried gentleman has taken residence there. Am I not right Jane?"

"Indeed Lizzy, not _one_ unmarried gentleman; but _three_!"

"Three!" Elizabeth cried, astonished.

"Yes, and Mama has told everyone not only this, but apparently they are all very wealthy gentlemen of great means. She is convinced they have come to Hertfordshire to seek out wives. She has already told Lydia that she must entrap the viscount."

Lizzy shook her head, bemused, "I'm not surprised. I'm sure she has gentlemen all planned out for the both of us and Kitty and Mary too. Speaking of Mary - where is she? I have not seen her all day."

"Mary has been helping out at the parish. Kitty says there are some children there that Mr Netton wants to help, and Mary offered to assist him at church last Sunday. She went there early this morning, just after you left for your walk, I presume." Mr Netton was the local Vicar and as he had yet to find himself a curate, he sometimes needed the assistance of the young women when dealing with the children.

The darker-haired of the two nodded thoughtfully, before grinning mischievously at her sister, "I think Mama would be interested to note that Mr Netton is yet an unmarried man."

"Lizzy! You would not dare say such things around Mama! Mary would surely be mortified and Mr Netton would become plagued by Mama's schemes... and he is more than three times Mary's age!"

Elizabeth laughed gaily, "But Mama has cause to worry for Mary. You, however, have your Mr Bingley and might not understand. You are right though; I would not wish such trials upon my sister if she did not wish it." Indeed, a plotting mother such as Mrs Bennet was a fearsome thing to behold.

"Lizzy, I have told you several times, he is not my Mr Bingley. And I do understand. Besides," Jane retorted with a smile, "You surely cannot understand either then, for you have your Mr Wickham."

Lizzy kept her smile in place, even as she said, "Ah, yes. The dashing, brave Mr Wickham who rescues ladies from falling out of trees. I suppose I do owe him that much." Jane giggled, "He is everything amiable and I shall easily admit that I have some partiality for him."

"Do you really like him Lizzy? In that way?" Jane asked in her concerned, sisterly way. She thought that being in love was a great thing, but also frightening too, for she did not want her sister hurt if that militiaman did not fully return her feelings. But..."Mr Wickham certainly seems to have some affection for you. He seeks you out often enough. Has he said anything to you, about... the future?"

"No." Elizabeth mused, "No, he has not. But that does not mean my hopes are dashed; for though he is everything charming and handsome, we have always had an understanding that I am too poor, and without a dowry, for him to be tempted into matrimony with me."

"Oh Lizzy! How terrible! But... is your heart touched?"

"No, I do not think so. And I do not blame him, in fact, I think I understand and sympathise with his plight. All men, no matter how handsome, must have something more to live on, than pretty smiles when he enters the married state." Jane continued to gaze at her sister with concern, so Elizabeth laughed, "Truly Jane, I am unaffected. He is charming and pays me a great compliment by always seeking me out, but my hopes for matrimony with him were never raised. I am quite content."

"Well, then it is certainly very good that he is not the only unmarried, young gentleman in the neighbourhood. These three gentlemen who have let Blytherton, may yet be a blessing in disguise for you Lizzy!"

The sisters laughed happily as Elizabeth commented, "A blessing in disguise for the neighbourhood too, for wealthy men in a small town can only be a good thing." Her sister agreed. "I wonder what they are like?"

"I think they would be nice sort of people, if they are indeed Mr Bingley's friends." Jane answered innocently.

Elizabeth smiled at her sisters' clear partiality for Mr Bingley, "Well, I daresay we shall find out soon enough, if they are to come to the Lucases dinner party. I have no doubt that they have been invited, and Mama would not let us stay home even if we were terribly ill. We shall make out their characters over dinner and dancing, and the mystery shall be solved."

"Yes, I think it will... only, Lizzy, you must agree not to judge them too harshly, for I know you are prone to seeing the folly in men. If you always hold their faults against them... I fear you will never be happy, for there are no perfect gentlemen."

Her sister chuckled, "Ordinarily I would agree with you; but actually, now that I have met Mr Wickham, I am convinced there are such men in the world. Mr Wickham is a fine man and I would be happy to marry him, if he was so inclined. I think it is only my lack of fortune that has prevented him from forming any serious design. But, alas, since that is not to be changed, I shall hold out hope for another gentleman who I can respect and love."

Jane regarded her worriedly, "Mr Wickham is not perfect, Lizzy."

"Indeed, Jane?" Elizabeth raised a surprised eyebrow at her fair-haired sister. It was very unlike her to point out a fault in a person or even mention that a person was not blameless. She had only been joking, after-all, about Mr Wickham being perfect. She was well aware that perfect gentlemen did not exist except in novels.

Jane looked down at the bed-clothes with a blush, "I am well aware Lizzy, though I do not like to think ill of people, that everyone has at least some small smirch in their character. Yours is perhaps outspokenness, mine perhaps shyness."

"And Mr Wickham's?"

"I - I do not know Lizzy. I just think... well, perhaps it is for the better that he has no designs on you."

Elizabeth gasped, "Jane, I would never have believed it of you! I could never imagine you might say such a thing. Pray tell, what has Mr Wickham done to grant himself such an unfavourable opinion?"

"Nothing, Lizzy." Jane said quickly, "He has done nothing against his character, and yet... he does talk so freely with all the young women of Meryton... don't you think?" she asked hesitantly.

Lizzy considered this, "I always thought him to be rather friendly towards Lydia, and the others, but that is just because he is amiable and wishes to please everyone. We cannot hold that against him, can we?"

Jane agreed, "No, I suppose you're right. Perhaps I am sensing something that is not there. I am only concerned for you Lizzy."

Elizabeth smiled and drew closer to her sister in a sisterly embrace, leaning her head against her shoulder, "I shall be quite content, Jane. I'm sure Mr Wickham is honourable and if he is not, we shall soon find out. A man always shows his worth and character with his actions; no amount of flattery and amiability will hide that."

And Lizzy knew not how soon she was to be proved correct.

...&...&...&...&...

_Reviews are wonderful! Are you ready to meet Mr Darcy in Chapter 2; "Insolence and insults"?_


	3. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2. It's a weather-beaten world_

**Author's note:** Darcy's POV. I know I promised last chapter they'd meet in this chapter, but I felt it necessary for this to come first. The meeting is definitely next though c: I'm very sorry for the long wait, a virus ate most of the info on my computer, so I was without one for a while. But to make up for it I have chapter 3 all ready and will post it at the end of the week.

**Revised:** Due to some comments left in reviews, some content in this chapter has been altered. For new readers, this won't affect you, but for those already following, you can either re-read this, or see the Authors note in the next chapter, which gives an overview of what has changed.

Big thanks to Zozobee and Maclaney, my two wonderful betas :D

...&...&...&...&...

Darcy looked up from poring over the household ledgers when a door slammed in the distance. His hands were at his temples, supporting his head and he groaned quietly; a sound that petered into a weary sigh. His eyes closed as he fell back into his disturbed thoughts.

Only last month, the situation had gone from bad to worse.

_"Mr Darcy, my son has every right to marry your sister!"_ His fingers massaged the headache that began to form as that insistent voice intruded._ "He loves her and making an alliance would do them both good. __I say that if she loves him, let them marry!"_

_"They cannot marry! You know well, they cannot."_

_"Why? Because your pride and arrogance tells you that they should not? Your father had pride, Sir, but even he recognised that Mr Wickham, my son, is worthy of attention. He is born to be great, and marriage to your sister..."_

_"Marriage to my sister will condemn her to an unhappy life, and he to a position he is not worthy of!"_

_"Not worthy? Not worthy! Your father, great man that he was, knew that my son was worthy! Why else should he pay him so much attention?"_

Why indeed? Darcy had never really made sense of it. His father had been an intelligent man with strong morals, yet it was as Mrs Wickham said; Old Mr Darcy had paid his steward's son an unaccounted for amount of attention. And Mrs Wickham, the stewards wife, knew it very well. Darcy could still picture her smug smile, as though she fancied that she'd trapped him.

_"He felt sorry for your son, and respected his father. There was nothing more to it than that. I am sorry Mrs Wickham, but a match between them would not be prudent," _That lady had tried to interrupt, but he continued,_ "and I am convinced my father would have agreed."_

_"Your father would have loved to see his favourite married to his daughter!" _She had tried to bluster her way through.

_"No." _He'd bristled at her insinuation that he had been second in his fathers eyes next to Wickham, but his voice remained steady and firm. His father had been sure to impress upon him the importance of controlling his emotions, and he would not fall to something as pitiful as jealousy,_ "My father wished to see your son make something of himself in this world, but he had no wish to see my sister lower herself to marry a stewards son. Mrs Wickham, I am afraid the matter is not open for discussion. Whether my sister, or Mr Wickham or yourself wish them to make a match, it will never happen."_

_"Surely I have a say in this!" _He had seen her frustration, but he would not relent.

_"As Mr Wickham's mother, you may have influence over him, but over myself and Georgiana, you have none. My cousin and I, her two rightful guardians, both agree__ that the connection will not take place. We will not entertain the idea." _He did pity Mrs Wickham's cause, for he saw that she was a mother who only wanted her son to better his station, but Darcy could not agree to such a thing when his sister could only suffer from the attachment. Should such a marriage occur, her place in the world would lower drastically in society's eyes, and more important yet, she would suffer terribly as she realised the man she married was not at all who she thought he was. It was for Georgiana's good that he stand firm. _"If that is all, I must ask you to - "_

_"Mr Darcy!"_ She had risen abruptly, looking at him fiercely through narrowed eyes. _"I will not relent on this matter. You will condemn them both to implacable unhappiness if you do not see the folly of your ways. You will see Mr Darcy! You will regret your hasty rejection of my son!"_ She had grabbed her reticule and swished her way to the door, but paused as Mr Darcy spoke once again.

_"I do not regret your son's impending discontent; indeed it is my pleasure to disappoint him in this. But madam, you are wrong in two things. Firstly, my sister may be unhappy to begin with; but she will regain her spirits soon enough."_

Mrs Wickham had snorted in derision, the sound further proving his position. The Wickham's were not even of the gentry, let alone of the same set. An arrangement could never take place with such an improper family.

_"And what is the other thing Sir?"_ The contempt in her voice was clear, _"Will you try to argue that you will not regret your choice?"_ The sneer directed at him did not affect him. He had merely set his glass down on his fathers large desk and stood calmly.

_"Not at all, Mrs Wickham."_ A brow had risen, _"I would not attempt such a pointless endeavour. I merely wished to tell you that my decision, and my cousin's also, was by no means hasty. We had always planned to give such an answer, if ever the situation were to arise. I have been contemplating the possibility of this unfortunate ultimatum for many a year; ever since my sister turned three and ten. Thus, our minds have been made up since before my father's death."_ He paused, stood and looked at her coldly, _"You are correct in calling the Darcy's proud, I will not contradict you. But do not suppose you can threaten me."_

She had glared at him a moment and then had left in a huff.

Coming out of his recollection, he stared vacantly down at the papers in front of him, seeing nothing, but hearing the wind howl and rattle at the study's windows. Since that day it had felt like everyone he lived with was going against him. Georgiana had watched him warily and avoided him when she could. Wickham had hung around like the loitering infidel that he was, but mostly kept to himself and must have made an obvious effort to avoid Darcy's notice when possible.

He'd placed loyal servants on both of them at all times, so he wasn't too concerned about any misbehaviour. What was more worrying was that Mrs Wickham also wandered the corridors of Darcy House. Sometimes he would see her whispering to her son, sometimes she would sit and smile falsely at the unsuspecting Georgiana, telling her falsehoods and half-truths that Darcy knew not how to contradict. Darcy rarely knew how to speak to his sister anymore.

_"Speech is what many people say separate us from the animals,"_ he recalled his old university professor once saying, _"but I believe it is the ability to put emotion and meaning into speech, that separates us, for even a dog can bark and a bee can buzz, but they cannot discuss, and cannot argue, and they cannot forgive. They cannot reason. That, students, is man's privilege, and it is our duty to use them."_

How could he reason with a sister who believed herself in love, an emotion that cared not for reason or rationality? How could he discuss the issue with Wickham, a man so mercenary and set on his goal as to push aside everything moral and proper? The only thing he thought might come of a confrontation between either of them was an argument, which could surely bring no good. If he was to separate them, and send Wickham and his mother away, would Georgiana forgive him?

It was all too risky with Georgiana, Wickham and Mrs Wickham in the same house. Up until now he had allowed Mrs Wickham and her son to stay here in the town house because it was their home and Mrs Wickham loved town. He also knew Georgiana to appreciate their company a great deal and hadn't had the wish to make her unhappy. But now something had to be done, and soon, for he was certain the wily Mrs Wickham was plotting some scheme or another so that her son might marry Georgiana. Perhaps he should send Georgiana to the countess for a season while he figured out how to deal with the Wickhams'?

His head jerked up as the study door crashed open and he espied a grinning man standing under the door frame.

"Richard!" Darcy exclaimed in surprise, standing abruptly in greeting, "It's good to see you!"

"Yes, I imagine you should be glad to see me, considering how I've spent the last few years. It's extremely reassuring to know that I would be missed should I be killed at war."

"You're too wise a soldier to be killed at war, cousin," Darcy said, gesturing for him to take a seat, "I doubt you shall be killed on the battle field."

"Ah, but you know death and war favours no man, Darcy. I could die the second I next step into a fray, although perhaps it is more likely that mother will drive me to bedlam first."

Darcy's smile slipped as Richard stumbled and fell rather than sat on the indicated seat.

"Richard - !" The taller gentleman cried, beginning to make his way around the large desk that separated them.

"It's nothing Darcy, pay me no heed. It is still healing, is all."

Darcy watched in concern, looking pointedly at the leg as Richard cringed again, "How long are you off-duty for?"

"However long it takes for this leg to heal." Richard gritted his teeth as a swell of pain washed up his leg, "Blast it!" he muttered, holding his leg awkwardly out before him.

Darcy was frowning in concern as he handed his cousin some wine to dull the pain, "Have you considered that perhaps you should have stayed in the infirmary a while lon - "

"I will not!" Richard declared, "I will not be treated as an invalid when I am able to walk and do everything for myself, most especially when there are others who need the attention more than I. They sent me home and for good reason. All I need for my recovery is distraction and occasional rest."

"Occasional?" Darcy's brow rose, "I'd consider your need for rest greater than an occasional intermission."

"Why do you think I'm here?" Richard replied in amusement, "To take advantage of you, your wine, your lovely house and grounds," he said with a smile. "Or perhaps, what say you, that we both go on holiday?"

"I say it is unneeded. You can get plenty rest right here at home, or even with your mother."

"Well I say it's very needed!" Richard protested.

"And how do you come to this conclusion?" Darcy sat and raised his glass to his lips to take a drink, concealing his half-smile.

Richard eyed him knowingly, "Well, for myself, I need to rest and recuperate and I know that will never happen if I am merely stuck at home being forced to be pleasant to callers - " Darcy's brow rose in amusement, for he knew Richard to be a very social man, and the colonel never minded entertaining. Richard ignored his cousin's smile and continued, "And you need a holiday because... well, I hardly think I need explain it." He glanced meaningfully at the very tall, very neat stack of papers sitting perfectly arranged on the masters desk.

Darcy looked away, and the colonel continued, "You know, I visited a friend recently, and as I walked in his front door for a surprise visit, I happened to come across this mans' loyal butler who was taking out his master's morning mail. And can you believe it, there were all of fourteen letters to be delivered! Fourteen! Can you imagine that, Darcy?"

"Richard I hardly think it is too uncommon, and really I should not think that is any of your - "

Richard ignored him with an eye-roll, "And not only that, but when I stopped to ask this butler why there were so many letters, and if his master suddenly found himself to be a social man, the butler told me that the amount of letters was not unusual as of late. He also added that the master spent most of his time in the study - "

"Richard..." Darcy said warningly.

"And he had not accepted a single dinner or ball invitation in over two months! The letters were all estate and business correspondence!"

"That is quite enough Richard!" Darcy's voice had an edge to it.

"Darcy," Richard began compassionately, watching his cousin and friend, "Your father died many months ago now, and you must realise that it is time to re-enter society again. Stop worrying about Georgiana and Wickham, for you cannot change the situation, so we must bear it. I have an idea, and a temporary solution."

Richard put his glass down on the desk with a loud 'clunk', before he continued, "So that your mind may be made easy, I suggest that Georgiana visit my mother for a time, and with she and Wickham separated, you will no longer have to play as a constant chaperone. In their absence, I propose that we, the both of us, leave town and go to the country for a few months. This way we will both happily solve your problem, avoid the social-climbing debutantes and get some fresh air that will do us both some good."

"I will take into account your suggestion about Georgiana staying with your mother, but this seems very unneccessary. You know you're always welcome to come to Pemberley anytime you like - and I am agreeable to us staying there for the season if that is what you wish."

Richard eyed his cousin shrewdly, "So that you can continue in your current, hermit-like habits? Darcy, I did not mean Pemberley and you know it. Instead I suggest we visit my acquaintance and your good friend, Mr Bingley, in Hertfordshire. I am sure he would welcome us."

Darcy knew Bingley had recently taken an estate in that part of the country, but so far hadn't visited, due to Georgiana's _situation_. Darcy had known him for years now, ever since university. Darcy had always been unhappy in society, tending to be silent rather than gay, but since his father's death, he'd secluded himself even further. Bingley had arrived at Darcy house for a call last season at an inopportune time and they had gotten into a discussion that had escalated into an unusually heated argument, in relation to one of Bingley's 'Angels'.

And so, Darcy found that Bingley left with his sisters to Hertfordshire without inviting Darcy, whereas usually he would have. So it was with a reasonable amount of uncertainty that the gentleman said, "I am not sure that Bingley would welcome my presence at this time."

Richard frowned thoughtfully and swirled the contents of his glass, "Well, I still insist that you come with me, even if we will not be staying with Bingley. In fact, I have the solution!" The colonel's eyes were bright as he sat forward eagerly, "I think my brother, Edmund, owns an estate in that country - I shall ask him about it and if he wishes to join us there."

Darcy sighed wearily, "Richard, I do not think all this necessary. I am not likely to be pleasant company for either of you."

"Nonsense Darcy! Edmund shares your quiet disposition and will not hesitate to have you along. You are welcome, and I absolutely insist that you come! We will take you no matter your mood or disposition and it may be that the country air will improve them. I have high hopes for our trip."

"As you wish, cousin." Darcy finished his drink, thinking that perhaps it was just as well that he had something to divert his attention and mind. Estate and business paperwork can only go so far in distracting a person, after all, and not only that, but the work that it provided was very soon to run out. Darcy had been writing up tenant papers and figuring out balances for this year as well as what he could for the year coming, so he would have little estate management left to think on but those occasional dispute emergencies between tenants that sometimes arose.

Being in unfamiliar country would be diverting and he had a hope to properly mend things with Bingley while he was there. And besides, as Richard correctly said, removing to the country side was almost certainly a good way to avoid the london season. He'd had quite enough of writing and sending letters of apology saying 'I am sorry, madam and sirs, I cannot be attending your dinner party this friday evening...'

"Right then!" Richard said decisively, "I shall talk with my brother and we shall prepare ourselves to go. In the meantime, as I suspect you have been in here the whole day, what say you to a bout of fencing?"

"Richard I hardly think fencing counts as resting. That leg needs to stay still and keep elevated - not have its master continue to abuse it."

Richard chuckled, "Darcy, I am now pain-free. The spasm has passed and I feel like a young man again. I challenge you Sir, and if you decline I should think you a coward for backing down from a crippled man."

"Hardly crippled," Darcy replied in amusement, "But I promise to go easy on you."

Richard glowered at his cousin, "You shall do no such thing, old man. I'd wager I'd still beat you even with a dead leg."

"I suppose we shall see then, shall we not?" Darcy rose with a grin and followed his guffawing cousin out the door.

...&...&...&...&...

Half an hour later saw the two friends at the fencing club, after Darcy had failed to persuade his cousin into something less taxing, with their foils pointed at each other.

"I hope you know what you're doing." Darcy said warningly, watching his cousin shift his weight from one leg to the other.

"Darcy this sport is not about leg strength. It is about balance and quickness; which I maintain and with which I will win. En garde!"

Both men got into the typical fencing position, eyeing one another, although the glint in Richard's eye was distinctly less friendly and more competitive. The fencing master gave the word, "Allez!" and Richard immediately lunged at his cousin, who parried successfully, though only just.

"Getting slower, old man!" Richard taunted with a laugh and they continued the match, alternately lunging and parrying.

"Hardly!" Darcy grinned, executing a riposte immediately after Richard's clumsy attack.

Darcy should have seen it coming, as Richard disengaged his foil from Darcy's by tipping the blade under his own and up, then lunging and scoring a point to Darcy's padded chest.

"Haha!" Richard cried jubilantly stepping back, "Do you acknowledge the hit!?"

"I do, cousin." Darcy replied, shaking his head, "It seems being in His Majesty's service has favoured you."

"Haven't you been practising while I've been away?" Richard mocked good-naturedly as they once again resumed their starting positions.

"I'm afraid not." Came Darcy's grim reply as he parried two quick attacks and then made a lunge of his own, driving Richard backwards. Richard winced and Darcy immediately backed off, but Richard merely laughed and started his own attack, earning a derisive glare from his cousin for his trickery.

Darcy managed to stave off the attacks, and couldn't help but notice that Richard rarely lunged, as it would require him to use his injured leg more. Moreover, he was tiring quickly. When Richard feigned a lunge and then attacked a different way, Darcy was ready and protected himself adequately enough to riposte and begin his own attack. Richard, who was well versed in sword-play as well as fencing, saw through his feints and was quick to deflect the attacking foil, but even so, he retreated little by little.

As he stepped back after a very near-hit, Richard grunted heavily and his foil wavered uncertainly, but Darcy, believing his cousin to be once again playing on his sympathies, kept up the attack, watching his opponents eyes, which were still very much narrowed in concentration. When Richard made a clumsy return attack, Darcy took the chance to step forward, deftly flick aside his opponents foil and score a point.

Richard glared at his taller cousin, who stepped back and lowered the point of the weapon.

"I really think that's enough for today." Darcy said, eyeing Richard's heaving upper body.

"I believe it was the best of three, Darcy, do not go easy on me now." Richard took up his stance again and pointed his foil in front of him.

"Richard you are fatigued, don't be a fool - "

"En garde!"

With an irritated grunt, Darcy parried an attack, stepping to the side slightly as he did and keeping his stance in good position, his right side facing Richard and his left arm out behind him. Darcy half-heartedly made an attack, but even Richard saw that it was a poor attempt and the reasoning behind it.

Instead of taking the wide open opportunity to score a point, Richard took a step back and bellowed, "Come now Darcy, I dare you to be soft on me!" and he followed this up with an energetic attack, driving Darcy back and shuffling on the balls of his feet. Darcy had just deflected a particularly vicious jab when suddenly Richard cried out, dropped his foil and clutched his leg.

"Richard!" Darcy dropped his own weapon to the side and went to his cousin's aid. The colonel was kneeling, his face twisted in pain as he attempted to stretch out one leg. "You're a fool!" Darcy growled as he attempted to gesture at a servant to fetch help, but being thwarted by Richard who grated,

"I'm fine Darcy, just help me sit up properly!"

"Reckless, foolish - "

"I do not need a lecture! I will not be treated as an invalid and I will spend my life the way I choose! Do not try to chastise me!" Richard's voice was so vehement that it was immediately obvious that the colonel was not merely talking about the current incident.

A pause followed Richard's outburst, before Darcy gruffly asked "...How long did they say before you could go back to your regiment...?"

Richard sighed, sweat slipping down his neck and his face churning in distress, as he huffed angrily, "They believe I'll never be whole enough to go back. But this leg _will_ heal and I'll be back on the battlefield before Napoleon can show his little white flag!"

"Can you stand?" Darcy asked, ignoring his cousin's other troubles for the moment.

"I can!" Richard grated, "And I shall do so on my own."

Darcy stood up and took a step back, looking down at his fallen cousin in amusement, "And how do you propose to do that?"

"Darcy, it is called, 'picking oneself up!'"

Richard held Darcy's eyes long enough that the latter gentleman understood the double meaning in Richard's tone. Both cousins' needed to pick themselves up.

Darcy shook his head in bemusement at his cousin, who struggled to stand up by himself. He called for the servants to attend the colonel, who gratefully leaned on them despite his previous sentiment. Once he was properly vertical, and had quenched his thirst with some water that had been offered to him, Richard took a hold of Darcy's waiting arm as a servant collected their things, and handed them to Darcy. The colonel leaned on his cousin the whole way to the waiting carriage, and was dutifully helped in. He breathed a sigh of relief as he sat on the padded cushions and could properly examine his leg in the closeness of the carriage. The carriage began to rumble back towards Darcy house but the suspension on the wheels of the fine carriage were such that they were not jolted too much.

"Well!" Richard declared in his old good-humour a moment later, "I'd say that was a bloody unfair match!"

"Says the boy who cried wolf."

...&...&...&...&...

One week later and it was arranged that while Darcy went to Hertfordshire, Georgiana would go to stay with her aunt, the Countess Matlock, and the Wickham's would go back to Pemberley. Richard, in that one week duration, had spoken with his brother and it was set that in four days hence the three gentlemen would go to Hertfordshire to live in Edmund's country house, Blytherton Manor.

Those four days passed slowly for Darcy, who, with an empty house but for the servants, often had little to do. He found himself idly walking the corridors and wondering at what point there might be a mistress for this grand house. It was quite plain to him that Georgiana needed a sister to guide her while she was growing up, and a female companion during her first entrance into society would be essential. Mrs Wickham, well-meaning as she could be, was blinded by her love for her son, and could not provide the necessary wisdom Georgiana needed in making a proper match.

He looked up at a portrait of his great-great-great grandfather and pondered upon the mystery of his future wife. In generations past, some of his grandfathers had had their marriages arranged. It seemed so much simpler that way, and yet also very much more controlled. He was aware that his aunt Catherine hoped for him to marry Anne, and was very nearly pushing him into an engagement with her, yet he knew that Anne would never be the right woman for both Georgiana and himself. Georgiana needed guidance and assurance, someone who knew themselves and their place in society, and could transfer that knowledge to her to help her become a more confident woman. And he barely knew what he needed for himself. He hadn't met a lady yet who inspired much more in him than a desire to escape their presence.

Bingley's sister was a prime example of this. Caroline, accomplished and beautiful as she was, could hardly entice him into conversation, let alone marriage. He hated the way many of the _tons_ women were, with their falsely created airs, their lowered lashes and smiling lips. Not one of them seemed to have an original thought of their own, nor even a smile that appeared true. Richard had once joked that the _tons_ mothers' brought their daughters up in such a way as to teach them to be everything a gentleman could want. _A lady, especially tailored to the supposed wants of a gentleman!_ Richard had crowed loudly at such a statement, despite them both seeing the uncanny truth of it.

Yet Darcy did not want that kind of tailored wife at all. He didn't want a girl whose only thought was to please him, to simper, to agree with every thought or word he said. He didn't want flawless features, alluring smiles or a weak-minded wife. He knew exactly what he didn't want, but what, or who, he _did_ want for a wife, was much less certain. Perhaps if he ever found a girl who carried none of the traits he didn't want, he could marry her.

He shook his head bemusedly at the backwards thinking, and carried on walking, past the portraits, whose figures seemed to look down on him as he passed underneath. He had a history with matchmaking mothers and their daughters, and while none of the encounters were pleasant, he could at least look back on a few with amusement. Richard knew at least half of such cases and took delight in retelling them at intimate family gatherings.

The worst of these events occurred when they were at Rosings, and Richard had mentioned a girl named Phyllis, and how she had followed Darcy around at one of his Aunt's balls that he had been obliged to attend. Lady Catherine's response was more than a little bit drastic, as she demanded to know who this girl was, who was her mother and where did she live? She also repeated several times at the dinner table that the girl had better know her place and who did she think she was, really? Of course, after that incident, Richard chose not to mention any of Darcy's admirers in Lady Catherine's hearing, as most of those unfortunate questions were directed at him. There was also the threat of Lady Catherine going to town to visit this young lady, so they collectively, with quite a large amount of amusement on Richard's part, convinced her that Darcy was in no danger of falling under Miss Phyllis's arts and wiles.

Darcy found himself smiling at the memory, and consequently startled a servant on his way back to his study. Once within, he resolved to finish what business he had on his desk.

After two hours of finishing estate management papers, he started a letter of thanks to his aunt for taking Georgiana in, but soon set his feathered pen aside and contemplated his writing. After a moment, he added to the parchment, _"Tell Georgiana I ask after her health and well-being and please make sure she is as comfortable there as may be. I am sure she will welcome many of Londons' diversions that are open to young girls that are not yet out. Perhaps she will enjoy a trip to the opera?_

_As you know the situation with my sister and Mr Wickham, she may need a ready ear to listen to her, as I suspect for the moment she may feel acute distress at his absence. Mr Wickham and his mother will arrive at Pemberley in less than a day from now, but I request most emphatically that Georgiana not be sent there until I am able to join her. Also, although I am loath to consider the possibility, it may be necessary for correspondence from the wrong persons to be kept from my sister. I take comfort in knowing you will understand my reasons._

_As for myself, I will be traveling to the country very soon and hope to gain new perspective on what to make of my current dilemma while visiting an old university friend. Letters sent to Darcy-house will be forwarded by my steward and will reach me soon after._

_Please encourage Georgiana to write me, and I must thank you once again for your trouble and helping Georgiana. She has long needed the wisdom of a mother to guide her._

_Yours,_

_F. Darcy_

...&...&...&...&...

_Up next, Darcy and Elizabeth meet, and dangerous sparks fly in chapter 3; "Insolence and insults" c:_


	4. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3. Insolence and Insults_

**Author's note:** So, I'm not English and my knowledge on England's history is rather limited. I did a search on the battles during the regency era to find out what the Duke of Wellington might have been like and the same with Napoleon. If I've gotten something horribly wrong, feel free to let me know in a message or review :)

Also, due to some reviews left by readers, chapter 2 has been revised and a couple of things have been changed; I apologise for the mistake and hope that those who disagreed with Mrs Wickham being Georgiana's guardian will continue reading, as I have changed it so that Mrs Wickham is no longer her guardian, and now a servant has no real say in Georgiana's life. Thank you for the reviews; to those that were kind, you helped me to not be too disheartened over the well-intentioned constructive reviews, that made me realise I had made a large error, which I have now hopefully fixed. I hope you enjoy this chapter ^^

...&...&...&...&...

"Ah! There you are Darcy!" Richard exclaimed from beside the front entrance of Blytherton Manor, "I was beginning to think you would fake an illness to get out of attending tonight. It does credit to your bravery!"

Fitzwilliam Darcy sighed as he paused at the last step, wishing he really could feign a head-ache to avoid the event tonight. He had no desire to attend a country dinner party. Most public appearances were miserable, but such a horrid evening entailing country company and, presumably, dancing, was a circumstance entirely without merit. Unfortunately, it was expected by society that they all make an appearance in a very social setting, so the choices were to either attend a large dinner party, or a ball. Since there were none of the latter kind of settings to be had, for which he was infinitely grateful, he would be subjected to the former. It was a pity that he was not the type who could succeed in fooling people by adopting the persona of an ailing man. He was not at all old yet, despite sometimes feeling that way, and being only six and twenty years. He was, by society's standards, in the prime of his life. Richard would never believe him to have suddenly fallen ill, and his excuse would be for naught. The colonel was unrelenting in his pestering and would likely badger him until he reluctantly acceded to join them.

"Bravery?" He enquired as he walked towards his grinning cousin, "I would not say I am brave, so much as resigned to my fate."

Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam laughed good-naturedly, slapping his taller cousin on the back, "Come now, it cannot be all that bad. There shall be pleasant conversation, good food and dancing! Dancing!" The good colonel rubbed his hands together, declaring, "I have not danced a good reel in far too long!"

"Neither have I." Darcy remarked wryly, his grimacing visage making his cousin all the merrier. Darcy hardly believed there to be such a thing as 'dancing a good reel.'

"Well then, that would be your own fault. You have had many an occassion to enjoy the delights of society, but you have neglected them. However, we shall make that right tonight, shall we not brother?" This last question was addressed to the viscount Fitzwilliam, who had appeared out of one of the corridors and was now making his way towards them.

"Oh yes. Mr Bingley has assured us all that the company is very friendly and obliging. A country dance should be most diverting." The viscount replied with an affected smile. Viscount Edmund Fitzwilliam, Richards' older brother, was a very large man, almost as tall as Darcy, but much thicker in the shoulders and waist. He was a powerful presence, and yet for the most part, had a very kindly disposition. He was older than the two other gentlemen, at three and thirty years of age, while Richard was eight and twenty, but all three got along reasonably well together... when Richard wasn't being too much of a fool.

"He also said there were plenty of pretty girls too. Perhaps we shall meet some of them?"

_Richard_, thought Darcy, _can be particularly cruel in his provoking remarks._ The irritating colonel knew very well that Darcy had no interest at all in meeting new people, least of all young unmarried daughters and their mothers. He could think of nothing worse.

"Perhaps we shall _not_." Darcy stated shortly in his unamused, deep voice. Richard just chuckled. The viscount smiled as one who was amused by the antics of a favourite dog.

When they were finally on their way, Richard remarked into the empty air of the carriage, "I wonder who Bingley's 'Angel' is this time?"

"No doubt an overly friendly, blonde girl with blue eyes who is entirely too over-bearing in her advances." Darcy replied, "I suspect we shall have to separate them eventually, for Bingley is too good a man to know the fortune hunting ones from the good ones... if good ones do indeed exist." Bingley was entirely too prone to believing himself in love, and this feeling on his part, concealed the mercenary motives of women from him. Bingley usually thanked him later; an imprudent and loveless marriage was something anyone could do without.

"Darcy! My God, man! Your negativity is boundless! What say you, if he has finally found someone who cares little for his fortune?"

"Then I shall be very shocked indeed."

Through this little repartee, the viscount remained silent, as was his wont, for though the two younger men were less alike in disposition, they were perhaps just a little less dull than their older cousin. The viscount was a sober gentleman who liked to talk of politics and the war over a glass of port, but otherwise usually remained without an opinion on other topics.

The colonel eyed the master of Pemberley, "Your pessimism can be most alarming sometimes."

"If, by that, you mean I have a good grasp of reality, then I thank you." Darcy's lips twitched slightly. The colonel shook his head.

"I see you shall remain an old bore, dear cousin. I don't think anyone should be as dull as you are. Even Eddy has his quirks." The viscount frowned distastefully at his brother upon hearing the childhood nickname, "His sleep talking can be most amusing and certainly very enlightening - "

"I think that is quite enough, Richard." The viscount interrupted. Richard sighed.

"All I ask is that you both show a little feeling at the party tonight. I will not ask you to change your somber selves, for I know the fruitlessness of it, but I do ask that you both will at least dance a few times. I do not want to leave a negative impression on the neighbourhood gentle-people."

Viscount Fitzwilliam frowned, "I have already announced my interest in dancing, Richard. I needn't a little brother to tell me how to conduct myself." The viscount was taciturn and staring unhappily at his brother, but Richard was looking at Darcy with his brows raised.

Darcy glared back, "Richard, I shall tell you this once. If I have an inclination to dance tonight, I shall. But only if I find a partner who it would not be a punishment to stand up with."

Richard laughed heartily, "I shall make it my mission to seek out a lady worthy of your notice."

The taller gentleman rolled his eyes, but soon after, they had arrived outside the building, and a footman was opening the carriage door for them to step out. Richard straightened his cravat, grinned at his somber-faced brother and sour-faced friend and the three of them stepped out.

Darcy sighed the sigh of a mentally exhausted man. Last night he hadn't had much sleep. Dreams of Georgiana in Wickham's clutches still haunted him from time to time and affected his waking hour thoughts. These days he knew himself to be shorter of temper, quicker to anger and slow to make amends. It wasn't for nothing that Richard kept calling him a grouch with a taste for pessimism. Sometimes he couldn't help it, other times, he found his resentment against the world made him want to lash out. He didn't blame Bingley for neglecting to invite him to Netherfield last spring. It was for the best. Bingley didn't need someone like him to put a damper on the excitement of renting his first estate.

Truthfully, Darcy wasn't sure why he thought it a good idea to go to the _country_ to clear his head, but somehow, Richard had convinced him. He also added that Darcy needed to see that Bingley hadn't committed a social faux-pass with any husband-hunting ladies. So Darcy found himself fervently hoping that the people in attendance tonight had at least a little sense. The country air so far had done nothing to better his humour and, tonight, Darcy could not claim to vouch for his temper.

He held his large black hat to put it more firmly on his head, so that the wind could not pluck it from his person, and the three of them made their way into the already crowded building.

As soon as the three stepped inside, the whispers, sly glances and murmuring started. The frown that fell upon Darcy's brow was an unavoidable reaction. Luckily, they found Bingley very quickly and greeted one another. He told them that his sister and the Hursts would be arriving a lot later in the night, then took them to greet Sir Lucas and his family. The Lucases were the ones who had invited everyone to their estate, which actually wasn't very big at all. Sir Lucas, Mr Darcy discovered, was quite an insensible man, with loud and effusive mannerisms and a very blunt red nose that attracted more attention than his words. Darcy managed to keep the displeasure at bay and to put an indifferent facade in place. After all the introductions were completed, Bingley was unfortunately called away by an acquaintance. He bowed to the other gentlemen and left.

As Sir William prattled on, Richard was polite and easy, the viscount was somber, silent but obliging when addressed, and Darcy was merely silent. He barely said a word, and Darcy suspected that Sir Lucas was more afraid of him, despite the lord's noticeable awe towards the large, higher ranking viscount.

"Do you gentlemen dance?" Sir William asked with a big smile. Darcy's internal frown deepened.

"We do!" Richard assured him, "My companions and I would love some agreeable partners to dance with, if there shall be dancing tonight!"

Sir William Lucas seemed relieved that at least the colonel was very agreeable, so the conversation remained mostly between those two until the red-nosed man said, "Well, there are many pretty young ladies here tonight and I have no-doubt that you shall all find the company very agreeable! Oh look! Let me introduce you to the Bennet's. They are a good, well-known family here and their girls are uncommonly pretty."

Darcy was tense as he followed the other men towards an older, graying gentleman, who sat beside his wife and a daughter. Then out of no-where, three more girls appeared, followed by Bingley.

Sir Lucas made the introductions, "Mr Darcy, viscount Fitzwilliam, colonel Fitzwilliam, may I introduce to you, Mr Bennet, Mrs Bennet, Miss Bennet, Miss Mary, Miss Kitty and Miss Lydia Bennet." All the ladies curtsied and their father bowed. The colonel smiled then bowed in return and Darcy fought his grimace from appearing. His bow was more perfunctionary than any of theirs.

"There is also another daughter, Sirs," said Mrs Bennet suddenly, "I do not know where she has got to, but - Oh, here you are, my dear." A dark-haired girl had appeared from amongst the crowd to stand beside her father. She looked curiously at the strangers as they were introduced to her.

" - And this is Miss Elizabeth Bennet. She is my eldest daughters' good friend." All Darcy could think was how Mr Bennet managed with six women in his house, though he noticed that Bingley was standing beside the eldest Miss Bennet and still grinning idiotically. _Now we know who Bingley's new angel is then, _Darcy thought. The eldest daughter was beautiful, and almost exactly whom had described in the carriage.

The colonel addressed one of the girls with a charming smile, "Miss Elizabeth, if there is dancing tonight, may I have the promise of the first set?"

"You may," she answered, her dark eyes shining. The viscount then asked the eldest Miss Bennet if he could secure a dance, which she accepted, though apparently Bingley had already asked for her first set and one other. Everybody then looked at Darcy in expectation, as though waiting for something. He just frowned, cleared his throat and averted his eyes from their gaze. He would not be pressured into asking any young lady to dance.

When Sir William finally moved them along, more introductions followed with various people, including many unmarried girls who simpered at the three gentlemen, and their mothers who made sly comments about their daughters not having a partner for the first, second or third dance. Bingley and Richard usually obliged the young ladies, and even on occasion the viscount would as well, but Darcy remained steadfast in his silence. He had not met a single girl he wanted to dance with. Richard tried, on occasion, to prompt him into talking with one of the unmarried girls, which did naught but irritate him, and when he did speak, he was distanced and stern. Richard glared at him every time they left a young lady without Darcy's asking one of them to dance. Darcy, however, wasn't concerned. They still had a good amount of time before dinner started, and then the dinner itself, and if he still hadn't found someone he wanted to dance with, he would explain to Richard that he had no intention of asking anyone to dance. Darcy suspected the dances, if there were any, would begin after dinner.

It was after making most of the introductions that Darcy became aware that the militia was encamped in Meryton. He wasn't overly concerned, but he wondered why they hadn't been invited tonight.

He was standing by a window, contemplating this, with his back to the room, when he heard Bingley exclaim from behind him, "Yes, that is the colonel we know - always being a stranger, wearing the last towns' dust!" Richard laughed in delight at the barb. Darcy saw their reflections in the window, and saw that they were talking to the two eldest Miss Bennet's.

"What a lonely existence that must be, colonel." Miss Elizabeth said teasingly. Darcy grimaced. _Just another hint that Richard needs a wife. I should expect her to now put herself forward and try to attract Richard's interest. Disgusting!_

"No indeed," Richard assured her with surprise, "Rather, I meet many new and interesting people."

Even in the reflection, Darcy could see her mirth, "But a rolling stone gathers no moss, Sir." Darcy's brow rose.

" - No moss...?" Then Richard chuckled as he understood the reference, "I suppose you mean that because I constantly move about with my regiment that I can shirk responsibility and avoid putting down roots anywhere... or with anyone."

"I would not dare imply such a thing Sir." she smiled, but both Darcy and Richard knew that Richard had been correct in his evaluation of her witty barb, "I do think however, that it must be a shame for those who love you at home. Surely they miss you, and you them?"

"I do miss them. But in reference to your lovely proverb, moss can often equate to stagnation, for it is only in that state that moss can grow. If indeed, I am a rolling stone, then I am most happy, for I am not stagnant and I would like to think I do not lack for adventure, excitement and freshness."

"Indeed," she replied, genuinely pleased with his response, "Those qualities are surely something to envy." Miss Elizabeth and Richard smiled at each other as Bingley changed the subject and began a conversation with the elder Miss Bennet.

Darcy found himself the slightest bit intrigued by the lady who'd had an unusually informed conversation with his cousin. It wasn't every lady who had heard of Publilius Syrus and his proverbs, and she rose a notch in his esteem. _But then again... perhaps anything in conversation is a step up from talk of the weather and the state of the roads._ He turned to examine her lively countenance and saw that she was once again in conversation with his cousin about something. He watched her silently from his place near the wall and observed the way that Richard seemed to genuinely enjoy the lady's conversation. Or could it be the appearance of the lady herself that he enjoyed?

Darcy was about to walk towards them and find out, but suddenly Sir Lucas appeared beside him with a lady. The gentlemen bowed and the lady curtsied, and just when Darcy feared he'd have to say something, Richard approached, with Miss Elizabeth just behind him. Then that lady's mother came too. He steeled himself for her silliness and none too soon for, after Bingley and Miss Jane had joined them, she began;

"Oh, Jane, how lovely you look! Do you not agree, Mr Bingley?" Bingley said he did, with that soppy smile as always, "I say, she is the prettiest girl in attendance tonight! There is no other that can surpass her beauty!" Internally, Darcy scowled. She was as bad mannered as the worst of the marriage mart mothers, constantly pushing her daughters toward wealthy men. Soon, she would begin disparaging other women... "Even Lizzy and my Lydia, young and lively as they are, are nothing to Jane." Everyone looked very uncomfortable, Sir William perhaps most of all, but Bingley couldn't seem to fathom anything that didn't relate to his 'angel'. Bingley had refered to her in such terms at least thrice this night.

"Indeed, she is stunning." Sir William said uncomfortably, "All the Bennet girls are very well-favoured."

"Well yes of course!" Mrs Bennet cried, "Anyone would say so." Sir William was then called away, and that gentleman left them, while his daughter, Miss Lucas went to talk with her younger sister just a little ways from them.

Mrs Bennet apparently made some effort to lower her voice, but it was surely not enough, as her words still carried above the general chatter, "And oh, Jane, outshines even Sir Lucas' girls. It is no wonder he would walk away. That poor Charlotte - "

Here Miss Elizabeth, who had been cringing and looking uncomfortable by turns, gasped in indignation, "Mama!" Miss Lucas' had apparently heard it all. Though she stared resolutely away, her younger sister, Miss Mariah Lucas, stared at Mrs Bennet in shock and alternately looked at her sister in mortification.

"Lizzy, you are too partial to agree, but we all know it to be true that Charlotte really is quite plain. Do you not agree, Mr Darcy?"

Darcy was so surprised to be addressed thusly, that he said nothing for some seconds and then almost stuttered, "I - Miss Jane Bennet is perhaps prettier," there were several horrified gasps, and this didn't help his flustered attempt to say something both appeasing and true, "I mean, she is not... Miss Lucas seems a well-mannered girl."

Mrs Bennet glared at him quite fiercely, "We are not discussing mannerisms Sir," she protested, "She is plain, is she not?"

"Mama!"

By this time, Mr Darcy was so thoroughly irritated, his mood having taken a serious fall, he was just vexed enough to growl an agreement, "Yes, Mrs Bennet, she is quite plain. Now please excuse me." He bowed and abruptly walked away, ignoring Mrs Bennet's triumphant look, her daughter's exclamations of distress and his friends' stares on his back.

_I did not come here to be pressured into being uncivil. I did not intend to insult her._ Granted, Miss Lucas was plain compared to some of the other girls in attendance, and certainly beside Miss Jane, but that didn't mean Mrs Bennet had a right to so rudely point it out. It was uncivil and improper. Mrs Bennet was as scheming and cruel as any of society's Mama's. He stalked back to his window, staring at the darkness outside. It was some minutes later that he gradually became aware of a strange prickling feeling at his neck, and he turned, searching for the glare that he was sure was directed at his back, but no one was looking at him.

The call that proclaimed dinner to be served brought people walking slowly to the dinner room and people sat at their respective seats. Darcy found to his displeasure that he sat next to Sir William and across from him sat Miss Charlotte Lucas. On his other side Richard sat and opposite Richard sat Miss Elizabeth. The table was not overly wide, so the conversation could flow across the table as well as down it. But this, unfortunately, was not a blessing.

The first course was uneventful, Sir William talked of how well-lit the table was and the size of his new carriage. Miss Lucas sat silently as she ate and Richard conversed with Elizabeth the entirety of the course. The second course was slightly more entertaining. Sir Lucas had given up on him as a conversational partner and turned to his wife on his other side. Richard had just addressed Miss Elizabeth Bennet;

"So Miss Elizabeth, you seem to be well-informed on books and history, but what say you about politics?"

Darcy looked across the table at Miss Elizabeth. She was smiling at Richard as she replied, "I know little of politics and what I do know is rather unfavourable. My opinions on it are sure to be unwelcome."

"Unwelcome?" Richard cried animatedly, "From a woman who knows of Publilius Syrus? I think not! Your opinion, whatever it is, is sure to be well-informed."

Miss Bennet flushed, "I assure you, I am not so well-informed as you think me."

"Come come, what is your opinion on Wellington? Or Napoleon?"

"I have heard of the former to be high-handed, haughty and condescending. But he also is said to pick his battles wisely, so perhaps he cares for his men better than another might have. He is practical, if what people say of him is true, although he lacks a certain... charm that another man in his power might have wielded." she paused contemplatively before she continued, "The latter certainly appears to be a very intelligent man - "

"Intelligent!?" Richard was indeed very surprised, and so was Darcy.

"Yes, from a unbiased opinion, he appears to have a good-knowledge of what he plans to do and seems quite well suited to his purpose," Both gentlemen were staring at her, aghast and amazed, so she continued, "He seems quite brilliant in complex situations."

"But he is - he is..."

"Evil? Or fighting for a lost cause? Yes, of course. But I don't think it would do for our country's leaders, or anyone, for that matter, to underestimate that man. He may be on the wrong side of the war, but he seems to have done a good job of being the opposition."

"Miss Bennet, Surely you do not suppose him to be better suited for strategizing and warfare than even our own general?" Darcy questioned with something akin to disbelief.

"Of course not, Sir. I merely think credit ought to be given where it is due."

"Miss Bennet," Richard suddenly said, a new, harder tone entering his voice as he continued, "Forgive me, but I cannot think the same way. He and his army have killed far too many of my troops for me to praise him for such a skill as prowess in war. Indeed for a man to be skilled at anything so sad as war strategy is... rather more something to be pitied."

"But is not his skill in inspiring his men something to be admired? That he could have so strong a presence and inspire confidence, where surely his troops would lose, is something rather amazing."

"Miss Bennet - I fail to see how convincing troops to march into battle for a lost cause is anything to be admired." Mr Darcy spoke again while Richard contemplated her words with pursed lips.

"That a man may convince another to knowingly give up his life for a cause - any cause - is something both awful and awe-inspiring. It is not every man who wields the power to have such a strong effect." she paused and lowered her eyes, "But perhaps the world would have been better off, if he inspired people into doing something less... costly."

"I agree, Miss Bennet!" Richard exclaimed with his old enthusiasm, "For surely if he inspired poets to write or artists to draw, a good many more men would return to their families... or rather never have had to leave them at all."

Miss Elizabeth smiled, a smaller and sadder tilt of her lips, "Yes, but in a world where Napoleon inspires artistic muse or musical harmony, we would also have orphans ruling kingdoms and babes with coats of arms."

Richard smiled at her wit and then broached another subject, "But enough of this morbidity, this is a dinner party! What say you of music? Do you prefer Gioacchino Rossini, Franz Liszt, or Ludwig van Beethoven?" Miss Bennet grinned and told him she prefered Beethoven. Richard then claimed this to be unusual and wondered whether she would prefer an english composer? Miss Elizabeth demurred, then the next course arrived and not much conversation was to be had, because Miss Elizabeth began talking to Charlotte and Richard grinned at Darcy, leaning over so he could whisper quietly.

"Have you asked a lady to dance yet, Darcy? I will have you dance, I insist!"

"Richard, you are worse than Bingley - "

"Mr Darcy!" Sir William suddenly interrupted, "Do I hear correctly? Are you wanting for a dance partner?" Mr Darcy glared at his cousin as the older, jollier man continued, "Well, Charlotte, my oldest, is in want of a partner also! She has only two of her dances secured. Perhaps..."

"Yes, I am sure Darcy would be delighted to dance," Richard added looking at his cousin with a grin, "Wouldn't you?"

"Richard! I most certainly will not pay consequence to ladies slighted by other men!" This was whispered towards his cousin, but the vehemence with which the words were delivered meant that both the Lucas's, Miss Bennet and Richard heard. Darcy glared at his plate as he tugged at his cravat. He then turned stolidly toward Sir William who looked shocked and mid-way towards anger, "Excuse me, but my cousin is mistaken. My spirits are not high and I am not yet sure whether I intend to dance at all."

Sir William seemed so shocked that he silently turned back to his food and said not a word to anyone for the rest of dinner. Darcy avoided looking at everyone too, though he could feel at least two sets of unfriendly eyes resting on him, his cousin being one of those sets. He suspected the other to belong to Miss Lucas herself and he silently admitted to himself that his behaviour was shameful. He did not want to slight or insult a lady, but neither did he relish the prospect of being coerced into dancing with an unknown woman. He loathed the thought. It was insupportable, and this night he would dance with no one.

He looked up at that moment and caught Miss Elizabeth's eyes on him. When he held her gaze, she looked away. _Well,_ he thought,_ If I dance at all, perhaps it would not be so insupportable to dance with Miss Elizabeth Bennet after Richard? That shall keep him happy and the badgering shall stop._

Not long after, dinner came to an end and the whole awkward scene was over. Card tables were pulled out and people assembled around them. Darcy partnered in a game of whist with Richard against two other gentlemen and the time passed a little more pleasantly for a good while, until the tables were cleared and dancing was called for by an impatient young girl with bouncing curls. Sir William agreed.

Quicker than Mr Darcy would have liked, couples were lining up and the music started. Richard collected Miss Elizabeth for the first set, but not before shooting Darcy a meaningful look.

Darcy sighed. When Richard had finished his dance with Miss Elizabeth, he decided he would then ask her to dance with him. _She is, after all, not so witless as some of the women here, and she at least seems to have her own opinions, misinformed though they may be._

...&...&...&...&...

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a self-proclaimed christian must forgive all offenses, including insults and slights, no matter how ill-intentioned the remarks were, or who said them; forgiveness must be eventually granted, despite the current feelings of the observers, and indeed, recipient of the offense.

However it is also very widely known, that the granting of forgiveness to an unrepentant gentleman who has just issued a direct insult to a gently born lady's beauty, is a hard thing indeed to do.

Elizabeth Bennet knew herself to be a christian, but found that she might have easier forgiven the slight if it had been about her. As it was, being a fiercely protective and caring sort of girl, she resented that anyone - let alone a particular haughty gentleman - should insult her dearest friend. Charlotte, Lizzy believed, was a prettier, wittier and altogether more intelligent girl than any other in Hertfordshire. Such a sensible girl, with amiable manners, certainly did not deserve such censure, no matter her lack of beaus or outward beauty. Her character and personality were above reproach. As a result of all this, it happened that Elizabeth Bennet had a harder time letting the offense go than even Charlotte did, because the latter girl had always known that her beauty was hardly comparable to that of Jane's or Elizabeth's.

So it was, upon the occasion of the insult, that Lizzy first suspected that she might indeed feel strongly towards Mr Darcy. But unfortunately for Mrs Fanny Bennet - Elizabeth Bennet's very effusive mother - these strong feelings were never of the good or pleasant kind. In fact the opposite was quite true; she strongly loathed the man, and indeed, it was not a secret, for she did not hide it. And it was because of these unfortunate occurings, that the following events continued to unfold on the night of the Lucas's dinner party.

Upon finishing her pleasant dance with colonel Fitzwilliam, Elizabeth sought out her closest friend and began to speak with her. Her anger had cooled only a little and even her fall yesterday and consequent bruised pride was nothing compared to the indignation she felt now. This feeling was still quite apparent to her friend, who felt the need to placate her stubborn friend after they had greeted each other.

"Truly Lizzy," she began, "I'm not insulted. I have always known the depth of my beauty or lack of it, and do not hold it against him for saying so. If he has a fault, it is only that he is very bold and unafraid to give his true opinion - not that he is cruel or deceitful."

Elizabeth smiled tightly at her friend, finding it hard to agree, "Nonetheless, he was uncivil and I'm of a mind to believe he really _was_ being cruel. I don't see how you can dismiss the insult so easily - I expected this of Jane, but not you."

Charlotte sighed, "Lizzy, you regard the gentleman too harshly."

"He has done everything to gain an unfavourable opinion and nothing to redeem himself!"

"Lizzy!" Charlotte exclaimed, "He has done nothing so horrid as to gain such censure and indeed, he does not need to prove himself to anyone! His ten thousand pounds certainly assures him of never having to be civil. At least he does not make it a habit to loudly proclaim all the faults he sees, for he can certainly afford to give insult in a place so unknown as here, without it affecting him at all. I am only grateful that he is as aloof as he is - it is easy to imagine a gentleman with the same circumstances being overtly rude and cruel. Mr Darcy was assuredly provoked."

Elizabeth tried to hold back the angry huff at what she knew to be truth in her friends speech. After taking a steadying breath, she murmured, "I agree that Mama is at fault also. But perhaps I place the blame on him because I am disappointed that he has not lived up to an ideal I had wished for. It seems too much to hope for - a well-mannered, polite man of wealthy means."

Charlotte laughed, "I thought you didn't make monetary value a priority in what is suitable for a match."

"I don't." Elizabeth countered with a sudden grin, "I was merely commenting on the fact that it seems a wealthy gentleman equates to a rude one."

"Now, Lizzy, you surely don't believe that. I may not be Jane, but even I know that somewhere there must be a noteworthy gentleman of means - maybe even one that lives up to your standards!"

"Surely not!" Elizabeth gasped mock-dramatically, "I really was convinced I would one day end up as an old maid teaching Jane's children to play their instruments! And now you have given my poor heart hope!" she put a hand to her breast and the other to rest dramatically on her forehead, in a mock imitation of her mothers' faintness.

Charlotte stifled a giggle with her hand and glanced over at Elizabeth's fair-headed sister, "Well," she said, when Lizzy followed her gaze, "it seems Jane might have possibly found a pleasant gentleman of good means. Look there."

And so Elizabeth did look. Jane was with Mr Bingley, who was regarding her sister with open admiration as he conversed quite enthusiastically with her. But Lizzy had known that the pair were well suited to each other and knew of her sisters' affection for that gentleman, so she was not surprised.

"Hmm...well, I dare say she has liked many a stupider man."

"Lizzy!" Charlotte exclaimed as she looked around as though checking to see if anyone had heard her friends quiet observation. Apparently no one had, but when she turned back to her dark-haired, mischievous friend, both their eyes were brimming with barely concealed mirth, "You must not say such things. But - do you really think she likes him?"

Laughing quietly, she was ready to reply in the affirmative, but suddenly a particular tall, very taciturn gentleman appeared before them.

"Miss Bennett, would you do me the honour of accepting my hand for the next set?"

Elizabeth frantically searched for an appropriate answer. "I - " She certainly did not want to dance with this rude man, so what could she say? Declining would mean that she would not be able to dance with anyone else that night, and she could think of no immediate reason for her to be able to politely say no. And so she reluctantly said; "...Yes."

Upon this reply, Mr Darcy turned and was gone, but perhaps more immediately after saying this, Elizabeth regretted it. _I should have thought of something!_ Charlotte's amused raised eyebrow wasn't helping her bemused sensibilities, so Lizzy lightly nudged her shoulder as she pursed her lips, "Did I really just agree to dance with him?"

"I dare say you did. I think you confused your answer to him with the one you might have been about to give me! I cannot say I am not surprised."

"Indeed." Elizabeth exhaled heavily. "I do not know if I can tolerate a half hour in his company, let alone be forced to converse with him. I do so despise him now."

Charlotte smiled sympathetically.

Elizabeth's dark eyes twinkled, "Perhaps I could ask him if Mr Bingley has a brother?"

A sudden burst of laughter behind them alerted them to the fact that Lydia and kitty were behind them. They each turned, exchanging a glance that held no small amount of dislike over the conversation that was sure to ensue.

"Lord Lizzy, did you just agree to dance with Mr Darcy!?"

...&...&...&...&...

Less than five and ten minutes later, Mr Darcy returned and offered his arm to "Miss Bennett." which she accepted with an equally cool, "Mr Darcy." in reply. Charlotte demurely told them she was going to get some refreshments, so Darcy led Elizabeth to the line of couples standing in place for the set. The dance began, they stepped towards each other, stepped away, walked around the next pair in the line and waited a moment for another couple to pass. They then joined many of the other couples in the space between the two rows in a dance that required light feet. Elizabeth was displeased to notice that Mr Darcy didn't seem to mind the rapidity of the steps and in fact never stepped on her toes once.

Though a little complex, the dance was not hurried and allowed for ample conversation. This proved to be a bit of a problem for Elizabeth, as she had no wish to converse with her partner and yet society dictated that not to do so would be rude.

"I believe, Mr Darcy, that the common expectation is for a couple in a dance to converse. I assure you, however, that very little would suffice. Even just a few words."

She thought for a moment that he would not reply; ignoring the dictates of society. Then; "Indeed, Miss Bennett, pray tell me what you would most like to hear."

"Mr Bingley. Is his whole family in attendance tonight?"

"Mr Bingley has three other sisters, besides the two in attendance tonight, all older than himself, but they are married and live in London with their husbands. He has no brothers."

Elizabeth's eyebrow quirked, "Other sisters," she mused, wondering if they were as haughty as the sisters she had met thus far.

"Yes. I suppose in that, the Bingley's share a simliarity with your family, having each five sisters."

"Except the Bingley's also consist of a brother, where my family are not so blessed."

"Indeed. A male heir to the family name is indeed a blessing."

Well. There wasn't much she should say to that, so she let the topic drop, instead observing, "Miss Bingley doesn't seem to be enjoying herself very much tonight. Do you think it to be her present company or the situation in general that makes her frown so?" Miss Bingley was surrounded by Mrs Lucas and Mrs Long, and Elizabeth would have been shocked to see anything but the expression Miss Bingley currently wore, on her countenance when in their company.

Mr Darcy shot her a look, his reserved demeanor suddenly dipping to show his surprise and displeasure at the question. "I assure you I would not know why Miss Bingley looks so disconcerted," he eventually replied, his manner grave. Internally, Elizabeth huffed. Her aim had been to unashamedly bait him, but he hadn't risen to the occasion by replying with an insult.

"Perhaps an unpleasant odour had assaulted her." At this remark, Darcy looked quite alarmed at the implication, and Lizzy smiled archly at him, though more reservedly than was her wont, "I tease, Mr Darcy, pay me no heed. We have spoken enough now, if silence is what you wish."

There was a following silence after that, and Lizzy was glad; she had managed to stay civil and the conversation was clearly over.

Except things changed quite a lot in that respect, when he surprised her by saying, "Do you tease as a rule then, when visiting and in polite company?"

"No. I prefer to be rude and insulting by laughing at the residents of the house I visit."

She guessed he was affronted if the mildly displeased tightening of the mouth was anything to go by, "If, Miss Bennett, you are alluding to my own behaviour, then I shall have to inform you that I was not laughing at all, nor did I find anything humorous."

"No indeed, I stand corrected, Sir," she looked at him with barely concealed dislike, "you did something far worse than laugh at them; you insulted them."

There was a lengthy pause as the dance took them away from each other and when they met again, with him taking her gloved hand, he said angrily, "So now I discover not only do you tease, but you also condemn. Thank you, Miss Bennett, for sketching my character in so full a way."

That would have been the nice end to a very horrid conversation, but as the dance was not yet to be completed for another few minutes at least, and Lizzy disliked both his mockery and sarcasm, she replied scathingly, "Do you disagree then, that to tease and condemn is a lesser offense than to mock and insult?"

"No," said he, "for the latter two offences imply dabblings in spite or malice, while the former two suggest merely a naïvety and lack of understanding." He seemed to pause deliberately as they circled the other dancers in formation, but before she could say something borne of anger that she might later regret, he continued, "But then I suppose we are both guilty of the very last offense - " Lizzy inhaled sharply, "Though which of us did so unintentionally is another matter entirely."

She managed to keep her civil facade in place with relative equanimity even though she internally seethed at his words and patronizing tone, "I'm glad we agree, Sir." She thought with dislike, that any insult he received from her lips was well deserved.

The dance then ended and to Lizzy's satisfaction, she was able to have the last word. She curtsied stiffly and walked away, turning her back on him as she drew a steadying breath to join Charlotte.

In doing so, she failed to see Mr Darcy bow in reply, and the way he stared after her.

...&...&...&...&...

During the course of the evening, Lizzy danced multiple times more. After her dance with the colonel, then Darcy, she was asked to dance by the viscount, which was surprising. She found him to be pleasant, although a little more stiff in his movements than the previous two gentlemen had been. He was polite and courteous and they made pleasant conversation.

When that dance ended, she sat out for a set, choosing to sit with Charlotte and observe the rooms' other occupants. She was asked to dance twice after that, once by a local Meryton gentleman and the last again by colonel Fitzwilliam.

Jane had danced twice with Bingley and multiple times with other gentlemen in attendance, so that she never wanted for a partner. Charlotte only danced three times the whole night, but Lizzy was quite sure that if Mr Darcy hadn't insulted her so rudely, other gentlemen would have asked her. Lizzy also noticed, despite herself, that Mr Darcy danced with no else the entire evening, but put this down to his pride. He had only asked to danced with her because he disliked her opinion over dinner and had wished to demonstrate his superiority by forcing her to dance with him. Lizzy found consolation in the fact that she had shown him that she was _not_ to be cowed into submission.

By the time the dinner party had ended and everyone was returning to their homes, Lizzy felt that the amiable natures of two of the gentlemen from Blytherton outweighed the rudeness and incivility of the third gentleman. Over-all, she was quite pleased with the new visitors to Hertfordshire.

She went to sleep that night dreaming of pleasant drawing rooms and amiable conversations.

...&...&...&...&...

_Up next is Chapter 4; "What young women shouldn't do"_

_I love reviews and would happily hear your opininons. :3_


	5. Chapter 4

_Chapter 4. What Young Women Shouldn't Do_

**Authors' note**: I hope you all like this chapter :)

...&...&...&...&...

_Patience ran through the trees, her unbound hair streaming out behind her as she laughing ran from the man chasing her. He was a young man, only two years older than his companion whom he determined to catch up with._

_"You will not catch me!" she called laughingly over her shoulder, as she dodged through the thick trees, skipping lightly over foliage and fallen leaves._

_"Perhaps I don't have to," came his reply._

_Confused, Patience stopped and turned back, her bouncy yellow curls swirling about her face. She couldn't see him. "Sampson, my love?" she called tentatively as she scanned the trees. His only reply was a low chuckle, and she suddenly laughed aloud as well, "The idea, my love, was for _you_ to chase _me_, not the other way around!" When she got no reply, she sighed teasingly, "But if you insist, then I shall have to come find you. Here I come!" she announced, working her way back and checking behind the thick trunks to see if she could find his hiding spot._

_"Sampson, you must tell me if I am close or not."_

_"My dear, you are entirely too far away," his voice called from the left._

_Grinning, Patience walked to the left, slowly as to not make much noise and alert him to the fact that she was about to find him. She wanted to surprise him! She checked every tree she passed but after walking for a good few meters and not seeing him, she stopped and contemplated. "Am I closer to - " her question was cut off by her startled shriek as she felt hands wrap around her waist from behind, but then she relaxed into his hold as she recognised his familiar scent._

_His head lowered to whisper, "Very close indeed." He smiled against her ear._

_She shivered, "Mmm, I don't think you're playing this game very fairly."_

_"I told you I didn't have to catch you... In fact, you all but ran into my arms." He was nudging her ear with his nose and making a very low humming sound that she found distracting. She turned in his arms to smile up at him. He gazed back._

_"Some might call you manipulating." she grinned._

_He laughed from place deep within his chest, "If I am, then you were only too ready to be manipulated."_

_Her reply was to sigh contentedly and rest her head on his chest while he held her. He nestled his cheek against her head and they stayed like that for a time. Then she said, "I wish Mama would be easier to manipulate." Sampson immediately tensed._

_"Your mother..." he kissed her hair tenderly, "I don't think your mother will ever be reconciled to the fact that you love me, and I you."_

_She started to cry quietly as she whispered, "It's not fair. It shouldn't be this way."_

_"But it _is_ this way." he said softly, "I am but a farmers' eldest son, albeit educated, who lives as a tenant and works on your family's estate. And you... you are a beautiful heiress."_

_"When I am owner of all our properties, I shall marry you and there will be no one to stop me!" she declared vehemently through her tears. She raised her head to look up at him with wide eyes. Sampson felt his heart breaking, "You will wait for me... won't you?"_

_"Yes, my love." He whispered as he bent to kiss her forehead to avoid her eyes, "I will wait." But Sampson knew a secret. Sampson knew that Patience was destined for someone else and he had to hide it, because she didn't know. He wanted to steal her away, but he never did. He loved her too much and she deserved so much more than he could give her. But he was selfish, so he kept coming to these secret, forbidden meetings, because he couldn't stay away. Oh, how he loved her!_

_"Sampson?" she asked._

_"Yes?"_

_"I was already tiring when you stopped to hide. You would have caught me eventually." _No. Patience had already been caught, been ensnared, but by another man. Patience would never be his. He would never have her as his own. She was promised to someone else._ And his heart ached, but he said;_

_"I know, my love."_

"Lizzy!" Elizabeth looked up, startled at the call of her name. She quickly put down her pen and shoved the story into her writing desk. She wrote stories only occasionally, and usually just short, silly romantic stories for her younger sisters, who loved the little anecdotes and foolish characters who fell in love at the drop of a parasol. Sometimes she wrote about little creatures in the forest and how they talked to each other. Her young cousins loved these ones, and when they visited, Lizzy read them to them before they fell asleep. But she had been working on this story lately; a tale of two lovers forever kept apart. Patience was a wealthy gentleman's daughter and Sampson was only a lowly servant, but somehow they loved each other.

Elizabeth didn't tell anyone about this story; it was a secret, and certainly too scandalous for any other eyes to read. Jane knew of it, of course. But even she hadn't read it, because she valued the fact that her sister wanted her privacy. Privacy, in the Bennet family, was valued when it was to be had, for in a house with three nosey women, not much was able to be kept private. Jane never shared anyone else's secret, of course, and Mary usually cared not to know a secret, but the two youngest Miss Bennets' and their mother didn't need any excuse for knowing another's business. The walls were too thin and the rooms too small for anything to stay a secret for long. So Lizzy cherished her secret story, which she worked on when she wasn't needed in the rest of the house. Besides, it was not considered a proper or decent occupation, for a young woman to write novels at all, no matter how innocent.

Despite society's condemnations against it, she sometimes took some parchment, a book, an inkwell and pen out on her walk, where once she had found a comfortable log, she would sit and write with no disruption but for the birds and their song. It was a finer music to her ears than any tune that could be found in a ballroom, and sounded completely new each day.

"Lizzy!?" Her name was called again by the urgent and shrill voice of her mother.

Elizabeth sighed and stood up. Her mother had no idea about her writing, and most likely had no wish to know either. Trifling novels didn't concern the fearsome Mrs Bennet. Lydia and Kitty suspected something though; they asked her ceaselessly what she was writing and when she told them that it was just a trifling story about two woodland creatures, they had sceptical looks on their faces, but soon turned away in disinterest. The youngest Bennet girls were now too old for stories about mice and badgers. Elizabeth consoled herself by saying she wasn't lying; she did indeed write about two woodland creatures; two very much in love creatures who met often in a wood. She just decided not to tell them that these woodland creatures she wrote about were actually very human. If they found out the true nature of her story; no peace would be had until they had read every last line. The thought of it made her stomach queasy.

"Yes Mama?" Elizabeth enquired, just as her mother burst into the room, "What is the matter?"

"What is the matter!? What is the matter! Oh insolent child, you know very well, what the matter is! They are to be here and you are not even dressed yet!" her mother all but squealed, bustling into the room to grab Lizzy by her shoulders and stand her by her looking-glass, "See child! You cannot meet the colonel looking like that! Put on that lovely white dress with the lavender trimming; he will be sure to notice you in that."

Elizabeth hated that dress. The lavender suited her very ill and made her skin look greyish, but the dress had a neck-line that was the most daring of all her dresses and was thusly the reasoning behind Mrs Bennet's motives. "Mama, you know I detest that dress. And besides, I wore it only yesterday, when you said they were to come." It was four days since the night of the Lucases dinner party and Mrs Bennet had been sure for three of those that the gentlemen would soon be calling. She had made Lizzy wear the horrid dress all of yesterday, and as it was, the gentlemen did not come. But Mrs Bennet seemed on the point of raptures in her sureness that today they _would_ come.

Mrs Bennet was perturbed, "Yes, well, it was very rude of them not to call yesterday," Lizzy tried to keep from laughing but didn't succeed in hiding the smile. Her mother noticed. "Lizzy! There is nothing at all amusing about this! You simply _must_ attract that colonel's attention today and then _keep_ it! He certainly seemed to like you well enough at the dinner party four days ago, and I haven't a clue why he hasn't called sooner! If you will not wear the lavender one, then you must at least wear the green dress."

"Yes Mama, I will wear the green one." Mrs Bennet nodded once in satisfaction and then turned and swept out of the room. Lizzy shook her head in bemusement as she reached for the specified dress and prepared to put it on. 'The green dress', as Mrs Bennet called it, was actually mostly white, but it had a lovely shade of green on the trimmings that reminded Elizabeth of spring-time woodland leaves, and some green swirling embroidery at the bodice and sleeves that looked very well stitched. Jane, and even their mother, had said that the dress suited her very well, the green shade making her pale skin appear even whiter.

The family maid came to help Lizzy soon enough, for between the five daughters, there was only one. Usually Lizzy was the last or very nearly last to receive attention from Betty, for she managed quite well with only Jane's help, but today, it appeared Elizabeth was to be the first to be helped into a dress. Mrs Bennet was not taking the visit from the gentlemen very lightly at all.

_The gentlemen..._ Lizzy sighed quietly. Betty gave her a sympathetic look but continued to tug at the stays tightening the corset. Lizzy didn't know what to make of the attention from the gentlemen. The strange singling out by Mr Darcy for a dance, the easy, interesting conversations with the colonel. And then Wickham. It was all so confusing and yet clear at the same time. She didn't know why Mr Darcy had asked her to dance, but perhaps he had wished to intimidate her and impress his opinions on herself, which, she admitted to herself, didn't seem likely, since he didn't speak enough for that. He did seem to argue and disagree a lot when he did speak though. But what she did know was simple: that man felt nothing but disapproval towards her.

As for the other two gentlemen, Mr Wickham may very well like her, but marrying her was not a possibility. She was too poor for his tastes. And the colonel... well, Lizzy didn't quite know. She liked colonel Fitzwilliam a great deal and thought that he might like her too. He, like her mother had said, was who she should try to impress.

The idea of trying to purposely impress anyone didn't appeal very much to her. If the colonel liked her, then maybe a match between them could be a possibility. However, if he only saw her as a pleasant diversion with interesting manners, but not good enough to marry, Lizzy would be quite content with that too. Marriage was not something that immediately concerned her. She would marry when or _if_ she fell in love, and not before then. She was sure the colonel would remain a kind and friendly man, even if an understanding between them was not prudent.

"I'm finished here now, Miss." Betty announced a few minutes later. Elizabeth thanked the maid and discovered that Betty had also finished putting her hair up. The maid nodded, curtsied and hurried out to see to the rest of the girls. Elizabeth looked at herself in the looking-glass. She grinned suddenly, thinking _Well, if he doesn't like me in this dress, then he probably never shall. _And with that amusing thought, she skipped down the stairs to break her fast.

At the table where meals were eaten, Jane sat there and smiled at Lizzy as she entered. "Did you have a good sleep, Lizzy?" she asked.

"I did, thank you." The younger sister replied. Jane smiled again and nodded contentedly. When Jane asked if you were feeling well, or if you slept well, or if you liked something, she really did want to know your answer and actually cared about your reply. "And you, Jane?" Elizabeth continued in a conspiratal whisper, "Did you dream of Mr Bingley last night?" she asked teasingly.

"Lizzy!" Jane's face suffused with colour as her sister grinned. She tried to hide her mortification by dabbing her lips with a handkerchief, though it did little to mask her blushing complexing.

Elizabeth merely smiled and sat beside her charmingly innocent sister, "Perhaps he will visit again today?" she mused.

"Yes, perhaps." Jane answered shyly.

They ate in silence for a while, both glad for the temporary peace. The younger girls were still upstairs getting changed, but they would be down to create a fuss soon enough. The thought of the three visiting gentlemen having to deal with her sisters in a room together was really quite worrying, but Lizzy repressed her anxiety.

"Do you think Mama is right when she says that the gentlemen will call today?" she asked Jane.

The older sister nodded, "Mama is quite certain. She says Mr Bennet got a letter from one of them saying they were to visit today."

"Oh."

"Lizzy? Are you well?" Jane asked, frowning slightly in concern.

"Yes, Jane I'm very well." Elizabeth assured her sister, "But Mama is so certain that the colonel... well, I'm worried what she'll say to him. You know how Mama is, Jane."

"Yes." Jane mused, "I suppose that is reason to be worried. I do so hope she will not say anything too untoward. Or Lydia or Kitty for that matter. It would not do for us to embarrass ourselves."

Elizabeth got no chance at all to reply to that, for suddenly Lydia dashed down the stairs complaining about why Lizzy had gotten Betty first, followed by Kitty and they immediately started filling their plates with food and chattering about everything and nothing. Mary came down the stairs at a more sedate pace and took only an apple before sitting at the pianoforte to practice.

The morning passed in its usual fashion. Kitty and Lydia passed the hours squealing and complaining or giggling about officers. Mary spent her time at the pianoforte. Jane found some embroidery she needed to complete. Mrs Bennet fretted, completely overwhelmed at the thought of three extremely wealthy and unmarried gentlemen in her home, and wouldn't stop exclaiming, "Oh! A viscount! A colonel! Mr Darcy!" Lizzy always found this last exclamation especially amusing, for Mrs Bennet said it as though he were a king, despite only saying that gentleman's name. Mr Bennet woke and almost immediately went to his study, for he was seemingly unable to be in the same room as his wife when she was in such a state. And Elizabeth went out for her morning walk, although usually she went out before breakfast. The mists had already lifted and the birds created the perfect jaunty song for her rambling walk. She found herself quite content and ready to face the day by the time her walk was at an end.

...&...&...&...&...

"They're here!" Kitty exclaimed suddenly as she peered out a window, "All three of them!"

In a sudden flurry of chaotic excitement, ribbons were thrown across to room to be caught clumsily in reaching hands and shut up in a desk cavity, pillows were spread out and girls yelled at each other, until finally Mrs Bennet managed to get all her girls to sit down. Jane and Elizabeth were the only ones who managed to avoid being hit by a cushion, and the only two who retained a visage of calmness, despite Lizzy's inner turmoil. Mr Bennet entered the room quietly and stood behind the settee.

The gentlemen were announced by Hill, their housekeeper, and they entered. The Bennet ladies managed to look suitably calm and presentable.

"It's lovely to see you all today!" Mrs Bennet announced.

"Thank you." The colonel answered for them all with a charming smile.

"Please sit down." Mr Bennet intoned, gesturing at the chairs. The colonel took the one closest to Elizabeth, Mr Darcy declined sitting and went to stand by a window; the same one that Kitty had looked out of to spy on them as they approached. The viscount approached Mr Bennet and they began talking of politics. Lizzy watched them for a while and discovered that Mr Bennet actually appeared to genuinely enjoy the viscount's conversation. Her father also seemed happy that he could talk to a man of sense and knowledge, instead of making meaningless comments about the weather.

"Miss Elizabeth." The colonel suddenly addressed her. She looked at him with a smile, so he continued, "I remember from a few days ago at the dinner party that you mentioned an enjoyment in reading. Pray tell, what do you read?"

Lizzy consciously noticed that Mrs Bennet was directing a conversation with the other unoccupied people of the room.

Lydia, Mary and Kitty were all apparently having a conversation with their mother, who also tried to engage Jane in conversation too. It was immediately obvious that her mother was doing all she could to have Lizzy and the colonel conversing alone, like Mr Bingley and Jane often did together. Lizzy attempted to ignore the unpleasant feeling that welled in her breast at this thought, and replied, "I read many things. I enjoyed 'Robinson Crusoe' by Daniel Defoe. The Mysteries of Udolpho was... interesting. It irritated me, perhaps a little. I think my younger sisters would have enjoyed it more. 'Gulliver's Travels' was more entertaining, though rather fantastical. I also read poems and tragedies but perhaps I find books that those that are non-fiction to be more practical for me to read." She hesitated a moment, then continued, "But the book that will always be my favourite, is, I think, the works of the apostles."

"The good book!" The colonel exclaimed in amazement, "Have you read all of its entirety then?"

Again, Lizzy hesitated, wondering if she had made a mistake of telling him, "I have read a good many parts of it, at least."

After all, Lizzy knew there were parts that were strictly not for young, unmarried ladies eyes. It would not do to admit that she had been allowed access to her fathers copy, or that she had in fact, read it from cover to cover, though it did take a rather long time.

"May I ask why this book would be your favourite? I'd imagine that something like the others you mentioned would be more popular among young ladies."

"Indeed, you are correct." she answered, "but I know all the other stories to be false and made up stories of fiction; the Bible, however is real history. It is truly the most fascinating account I have ever read. It also teaches one how to live daily life in a proper and good manner."

"I suppose you also then, enjoy Fordyce?"

"No indeed!" she laughed, "It would be Mary who enjoys the works of Mr Fordyce. I enjoy the bible a great deal, but I admit to finding Fordyces' teachings, especially to young women, quite pretentious and dull, from a man who has never known what it is like to be a young woman." Lizzy was of the opinion that Mr James Fordyce voiced far too many instructions and opinions that were entirely useless, but she could not say this.

"And who then, should have written Mr Fordyce's sermons for him?" he enquired with much amusement.

"Why, a woman of course!" she replied in good taste, her teasing showing through her eyes, "A wise, knowledgeable, older woman - perhaps even Mr Fordyce's wife could have offered insight. At least she might have thought it unnecessary, if she did not disagree entirely, for him to claim that there were," she adopted a deeper tone and serious mien as she quoted "very few, in the style of a Novel, that you can read with safety, and yet fewer that you can read with advantage."*****

The colonel laughed gladly, "But you would be predisposed to disagree with his opinion on this, for I know you greatly enjoy a good novel."

"Yes indeed." she agreed, "But I enjoy them because I disagree, not that I disagree because I enjoy them. The difference," she mused with an arched brow, "is that in the former case, I know many novels to be both entertaining and instructive and therefore I enjoy them, thus disagreeing with Mr Fordyce. In the latter case, which is not true, I would have disagreed without reason or thought, merely because I did not wish to give up the past-time, regardless of whether I thought Mr Fordyce to be correct or not."

The colonel chuckled delightedly, "So you are a lady of reason then? A quality both rare, and to be treasured."

This response elicited a blush from Elizabeth, who was not accustomed to such praise. "I believe, Sir, we have gotten quite off topic. We were talking of the differences between Our good Lords' words, and those of Mr Fordyce."

"Ah, yes. So we were. What then, do you believe the major contrasts in content to be?"

"It might perhaps shock you, but I find Mr Fordyce's opinions and writings to contain far too many rules and strictures. He laments on the follies of young ladies far too much to my liking, no matter if I agree."

"Is not the bible full of these 'rules and strictures' also?" he asked with a risen brow and warming smile.

"So it would seem," she acknowledged, "but upon further study, many of the laws are for the good of the people who were commanded to follow them. And many books are not about rules at all; but actually fascinating accounts of how people lived, and how our Lord helped them through particular trials and evils."

"Indeed, and which books then, do you enjoy most?" His unstudied smile and relaxed posture endeared him to Elizabeth and required that she answer with her real opinion.

"Perhaps the books of Ruth and Esther, for both are about women of great faith and courage, but I find the books of the disciples most relevant. My very favourite chapter and verses, however, lie in Corinthians."

"And why is that?" he asked with an amused glance at his cousin. Mr Darcy approached them slowly, his brows lowered as he looked between the two young people.

"Because it talks of love, and what it is... or should be."

"Do you suggest then," Mr Darcy asked as he stopped before them, "that the love that is practiced in this day, is not to the standards of what the Apostle Paul wrote of?"

Elizabeth noted with interest that Mr Darcy must also have read Corinthians and probably at least a few other Bible stories to know who had written it, so she paused before answering as she considered her words carefully. Mr Darcy, she knew, tried to find fault in her reasoning, and she was determined to disappoint him. "I suggest sir, that we often substitute what should be love, and call it charity. But the difference between the meanings of these words is no little matter, and one should not be used for replacing the other. For though being charitable can be an act of love, it is not always so, especially when the lady or gentleman being charitable, does so unwillingly. Likewise, while love can produce a charitable outcome, they are not one in the same and both can occur without the other."

Elizabeth perceived the way his eyes narrowed further, "And by explaining this, you suggest that many today, are being charitable, but not doing so out of love?" he asked, his imposing form towering above the two sitting people. Colonel turned to Elizabeth as he awaited her answer, his eyes sparking with amusement at how serious his cousin sounded.

"Perhaps." Elizabeth smiled, daring him to disagree.

"But do you not think, that for some people, being charitable is the only way they know of showing that they love or care for another?"

"I agree Mr Darcy, but then, I think we should perhaps better define what love means, lest we confuse it for being an emotion. Indeed the apostle almost suggests that love is not necessarily a feeling; but a series of actions. And these actions should be shown towards every man and woman, regardless of station."

"And what of romantic love?" Mr Darcy enquired, voice deepening.

"Romantic love... if I were to be cynical, I would say that such a thing did not exist."

"Not exist!" The colonel exclaimed, while Mr Darcy stared at her quite intensely, "Surely you do not believe such a thing!?"

She laughed, lightening the atmosphere considerably, "Indeed, I do not. I should like to think it exists, despite so many examples pointing to the opposite."

"And what can you mean by this?" The colonel asked, his brow furrowed.

She smiled, "That many marriages are based on position, connections and wealth. Love has little to do with a marriage when these are considerations are taken into account."

"You must consider, Miss Bennet, that while many will marry for the reasons you provide, in time the two may eventually grow to love each other."

"Yes," she agreed, "But I would call that kind of love more along the lines of a familial love, of the two having grown used to each other will eventually be like family, but it is likely, unless there was always the chance of it occurring since the beginning, that the two will not share the romantic love you speak of."

"I wholeheartedly disagree, Miss Bennet."

"Is that perhaps because you hope to marry for the reasons I named and yet still wish for romantic love?" she asked, aware that her enquiry was bordering on impertinent.

"It is because, Miss Bennet," she could hear the disapproval in his tone, "My own parents were an example of the situation you provided, and yet they grew to love each other quite fiercely. I myself would not be averse to following their example, so long as it produced the same happiness in marriage. But in saying so, I would indeed hope that I loved the lady I was to marry before the event occurred."

"Well I should hope so too!" The colonel interjected rather suddenly, "Darcy has all the luck. For while he may marry anywhere he will, I _must_ marry for at least one of the reasons you provided. Such is one of the misfortunes of a younger son." he sighed dramatically, and Elizabeth smiled.

"Alas good sir, you may yet fall in love with a beautiful and wealthy woman of good breeding and fortune, and then your misfortunes will be for naught."

He laughed in agreement good-naturedly, "Yes, I can always hope. And if I am not so lucky, perhaps I will be like Darcy's good father, and fall deeply in love with the woman after I marry her."

Elizabeth smiled, "And even if that does not happen, I think a man would be blessed to respect and be respected by his partner. Felicity in marriage does not necessarily depend on love, I have come to realise." Although Elizabeth was loathe to admit it, an example of this was perhaps her own parents. They were certainly not as in love as another couple might have been, and respect had very little to do with it, yet Lizzy knew her parents to be quite content and certainly not _un_happy. They did, of course, have those times of frustration with each other, but all in all, they led happy lives. Mr Bennet stayed enclosed in his study, where he enjoyed many hours of reading, and Mrs Bennet, whose sole purpose in life could have been to find matches for her daughters, was content with gossip and tales of officers.

Lizzy knew her friend Charlotte to agree with the opinion she had just expressed also. Charlotte was a girl who would likely marry for security, rather than love, and though Lizzy did not fancy the idea, neither would she condemn her friend for it. If Charlotte was happier in a marrage of convenience than if she stayed at home under her fathers roof, Lizzy could not begrudge her.

But Elizabeth knew she, herself, could not marry for anything but the deepest love, or else marital felicity would not be possible for her.

"But love must at least provide a greater chance of felicity in marriage." Mr Darcy was still standing above them, but Elizabeth looked determinedly up at him as he spoke.

"I do not disagree, Mr Darcy," she conceded with a smile that was neither affected nor affectionate.

Mr Darcy nodded, seemingly satisfied, and went back to stand by the window, where he stared out resolutely once again.

Elizabeth turned an enquiring eye on the colonel, who chuckled lightly in response. He lowered his voice as he looked slyly at his cousin, "Darcy can be an odd fellow. One minute he claims there is not a worthy young woman in the world, and the next he says he will fall in love with one. I do not see how he can hold both opinions at once."

"Perhaps he meant to say he has not yet met the worthy woman he intends to marry?" she suggested laughingly. Elizabeth wouldn't be surprised if Mr Darcy thought the only worthy woman in the world would be the one he married. Or perhaps he suggested he would fall in love with a woman who was not worthy after all? Foolish, confusing man!

"Yes. I agree." The colonel smiled, but before another topic could be raised, the viscount announced that they unfortunately had to make other calls and must be going. Mrs Bennet tried to persuade them to stay for luncheon, but she could not, and they were soon all standing and taking their leave of the ladies and Mr Bennet.

"Thank you," said colonel Fitzwilliam amiably and with a smile, "For confiding in me your opinions on worthy literature, and delighting me with your conversation."

"And thank _you_, colonel, for listening to me," she smiled, her dark eyes twinkling in a way that he found very pretty, "You were most attentive and gracious."

He chuckled and bid her good day with the other gentlemen. The viscount bid the room in general adieu, only specifically saying goodbye to Mr Bennet, whom he had enjoyed conversing with. The ladies - Mrs Bennet specifically - were effusive in their appreciation for the call, and Mrs Bennet was heard many times to say, "And you must all surely come again!"

Mr Darcy, however, before bidding the other occupants goodbye, approached her once more as she stood. His manner was grave and his voice deep, as he said, "Goodbye, Miss Elizabeth."

...&...&...&...&...

_**Authors' note**: *****extract from Sermons to Young Women, by James Fordyce, 1766._

_The next chapter is called "..." where things really get interesting!_


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